Saturday, December 24, 2011

My Own Making

Not sure why that cut doesn't heal
Maybe because I keep pulling off the scab
The wound doesn't even bleed any more
And I'm not sure what it is I'm not trying to feel

Keep digging deep
There's nothing left to pull out
Keep squeezing that wound
There's nothing there to come out

Tired of feeling so tired
Keep driving down the same road
Can't keep my eyes open
And yet I'm still wired

Would reach for a drink but that's no more
Would love a smoke but those days are gone
Would take a pill but the bottle's empty

So here I sit in another moment of my own making.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I think there must be something wrong with me. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel. I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed.

Anonymous said...

Rambler, what?

Ohhhh...I BEGGED you to get some therapy.