I returned to sheet of paper with a pen in hand
To spill my heart’s sorrows just as I had planned
To continue this routine, expelling inner pain
Using ink in hopes to transfer a past-induced stain
Put it in a place where I can visit at my own will
Instead of a sharp surprise like mid summer chill
Inevitable, however, these random stabs are
Like trying to use my body to stop a moving car
I ponder shortly of my ineffective effort to heal
Wounds remain while my remaining years peel
So what do I use now to calm my troubled self?
Rhetorical question asked as I reach for the shelf
I was already heading here, pen was just the door
Soon I will be content, lying naked on my floor
My fucked up head will then put her at my side
My breathing will get short and my eyes get wide
I’ll laugh at the sky, whisper and kiss at a ghost
Inviting in more of my hallucination’s host
I tell myself this time will finally be the last
The last time I rope myself to this sunk ship’s mast
Maybe tonight these words will finally come true
Perhaps my skin will shrink, and soul seep through
Wishful thinking can become dangerous you see
You can’t give these types of privileges to me
Paralyzed now, my only moving organ is my heart
The one I wish I could turn a switch and restart
Till morning my naked body is my at peace den
Holding onto nothing but this rhetorical pen
