November 28, 2009

Soul Puking

I'm wanting to expunge it all
Looking to find something new
Talking to myself
Waiting for the other shoe

It feels like it’s falling apart
Or maybe just growing roots
I find myself listless
As I pull on these boots

I’m taking a walk
Finding something fresh
Worlds are colliding
While I wish that they would mesh

Taking down the pictures
Packing up the spoons
Driving down the coast
Dancing under moons

Looking for the next exit
Waiting for the chance
To hideaway in bungalows
To find solace in a glance

Maybe there’s an answer
I’m pretty sure this isn’t it
But obsession fuels my melancholy
As I beg myself to quit

Smiling through the tears
Dying as I’m waking
I’m doubled over in pain
I thought that was my heart breaking

I’m keeping it in mind
Heeding my own advice
Doing the right thing
Trying to be nice

2 comments:

Doug said...

Makes sense. The soul is made of wood alcohol, I bet.

Bathwater said...

embrace yourself and your scars hon, you are beautiful.