i dont like being sober
the bad feelings bowl me over
i much prefer the buffer
the illusion of being tougher
as time eludes me still
a bottle or a pill?
i dont like being sober
the bad feelings bowl me over
i much prefer the buffer
the illusion of being tougher
as time eludes me still
a bottle or a pill?
she found herself inside a hole
it was so dark, so very cold
surrounded by voices
people talking
her isolation, sealed with caulking
she tried to clutch onto the sides
pull herself up
but she started to slide
and the next morning
when she awoke
her heart was parched
she started to choke
she was no longer within that abyss
but it brushed past her cheek
with an ominous kiss
the sun all around me
i am covered with rain
churning inside me
all this endless pain
no respite no sleeping
too tired for weeping
the sand on the beach
my only friend
grainy and true
until the end
the ocean is lapping
the beach with its wave
riptide internal
will noone save
either i am clowning
or else i am drowning
i sit at this table
thinking aloud
many things so ashamed of
very few i am proud
wondering why
no answer is heard
hanging onto
each deceptive word
begging the future to tell me
whats coning
while in every way
my mind i keep numbing
all the while crying for joy
and sweet mirth
is there such as this
upon this dark earth
here i sit at the edge of a drain
too tired to buckle under the strain
although my life seems pallid and plain
it is what i chose so why complain
unless i change, seek what i desire
i am the keeper of my own mire
and in this muck i will always swim
until the lights grow very dim
so i must decide
to grow or to hide