The Ghost of Me

Strange visions passing before my eyes

Odd lines between fantasy and responsibility

I drag between sunup and sundown

I see no reason to keep fucking dragging

On and on and on

Waiting for miracles that don’t happen

Waiting for answers that don’t come

I lag behind on obligations

I forget what made me ME to begin with

I cut the skin, just to watch it bleed

But it makes such a fucking mess

I forgot what a mess it makes

I guess it’s been a while

I try to type but the words don’t come

My soul feels dry

Dry like a bone in the desert sun

Thirsty for water that’s nowhere in sight.


4 thoughts on “The Ghost of Me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s