It's 4am again
cigarette reaching it's end again,
blowing smoke rings around stars,
and I'm
wondering how I ever got this far
how I cant seem to run out of room
for my battle scars
feeling my muscles burn from
running to the buh-beat-buh-boom
of my branded heart
pavement hitting my fast feet hard
burning circles through my mind-
there's a
racetrack path weaving minefields through my
post chaotic mess
tripping over hidden hurdles like my
post traumatic stress
it's a city where everyone looks the same
and I keep thinking-
I've been here before,
I've seen you before,
is it just that I keep coming back for more?
or am I trapped in a maze of mirrors-
every time it looks like the picture's getting clearer
sandstorms rush by me
distorting the glass
warping my past
in reflection
blacked out memories are becoming infections,
they keep coming back and
making me ill, but
there are no pills for the things that other people have done to you
or the things you have done to yourself-
my mind is a penitentiary
for childhood monsters,
and they're catching up behind me
escaped from the gates of their prison cells,
sometimes i just need someone to remind me
who i am-

'cause I couldn't hear you say
that I'll be fine, and it's ok
not to worry, cause it'll all look better in the morning
I just keep telling people
that I'm sorry
for the repetition of chaos in this story
but I cant help
the amount of damage in the hands I've been dealt
or the fact that this only feels like home
when I'm looking at the stars
staring at Orion's belt-

listen:
my heartbeat,
it's running on repeat
and I'm about ready for a new playlist
a million ways to say this,
and I've struggled to find just the one.
I can feel time beginning to burn on my skin like the sun
the problem is that I don't tan,
I blister
I'm starting to miss things that aren't gone,
like my brother and sister,
or the way I belong
with my friends-
I've been missing things I've never had,
like a good night's sleep,
or parents that acted like a real mom and dad

lately I've been getting depressed and apathetic
or angry and energetic
with flashes of cold
like I've got lungs full of anesthetic
going numb so that I can breathe slowly
cause I don't want to lose my shit, and then regret it
I shrug it off, don't sweat it, I just
don't get it-

There's one of those childhood monsters chasing me
all day long
and in my dreams,
I cant get a moments peace
without facing it like a trigger being squeezed
staring down the barrel of a pistol
just about to shoot
suddenly I'm back in 1992
afraid tell ANYONE what exactly I went through
I even tried, and didn't lie
just left out the important parts of the truth
I can't make it leave my head
no matter what I do
and I just want to scream

so I'm typing circles around myself, and
watching my my thoughts on a computer screen
pulled the plug on Commander Keen
because reality reminds me that
god mode cheat codes
wont save me from falling off the edge of the world
and I don't know
which direction I should go
if I want to get out of the dead skin I'm stranded in
so I'm saving sanity
shaped like jigsaw pieces
hidden in the best moments of humanity
showing up when hope persists

watching the smoke from my cigarette twist
standing under stars crawling back into morning
looking at the watch
strapped around my wrist
the clock flicks to number six
the tick tick tock of my thoughts
ceases to exist
clutching all the words concerning things that hurt
on the paper in my fist
and burn it away like a warning
you know what they say-
it'll all look better in the morning.