Don’t Wait For What’s Already Waiting For You

Death comes on a sliding scale,

it is never fair or just,

but only ever slightly surpasses what we’re capable of bearing.

There is large death, and small,

death of the heart, and mind,

but worse yet

the death of a soul.

Death can set us free

or lock us away

but will never deny us the ability to choose.

True death, comes only where it is not welcome

and send imposters and pretenders in its place

where it is called for.

Death comes for all of us at least once

some 100 times before they really die

and whether or not it has the chance to run away with us

will always be a question

until it is done.

Taking Escape By The Handful

Living is strange

and people are dumb

that why I take these pills,

cause they make me feel numb.

 

They’re blue and red,

and they’re clouding my vision

but don’t worry ’bout me

it’s a minor addiction.

 

I’ll just take one, okay four,

I’m sure it’ll be fine.

I’ve losing track of space

and I’m floating through time.

 

I’ll find my way back

in a few hours, I think,

I woke up and its Wednesday,

man I need a drink.

 

Guess I’ll do it again

and hope for the best,

I’ll take few now

and leave tomorrow, the rest.

Too Much To Say And Too Little Time

I have found, that my problem is

 

I always have too much to say.

A shortage or time

and an excess of words.

 

I wonder if its really just that silence

can speak louder

and hold more meaning

 

because someone lost in thought,

liberated from their own voice,

can not only see what they’re thinking

 

they can feel it.

Don’t Look Back, And If You Do, Don’t Stop

There is always apart of us that knows what we’re doing is wrong

but we make excuses to justify our mistakes

so we can run with them until we’ve gone just a little too far.

And we’re always looking back, aren’t we

at all of the chances we had to save ourselves,

so that we miss the ones that are passing us by.

Things I Shouldn’t Be Thinking About While I’m At Work

Standing, waiting,

sitting, standing again.

Time is passing, so that’s good I guess.

So are faces,

of people I’ll never meet, or see again,

of people I’ll never care about

with names that I’ll never know.

Each Time Is Different But I’ll Always Be The Same

Time is turning back

faster than I’d like it to

and all I can imagine now

is what my brain will think to do

because i’ve been here before

and it didn’t work the first time

or the second, or the third

why do I even still try

to find something that works

not just for me

but for you

its harder than I thought it’d be

and now i’m scared

of what I’ll do

when time repeats itself

and I don’t follow through

with the promises I made

and the things I said

you should turn back now

because theres dismay ahead

in this thing we don’t understand

my minds been forsaken

and my heart,

a wasteland.