Aiming for the ground
I’ve been spending my nights getting too fucked up, I think I’m a mess, I think too much. More dependent than I ever was.
There’s some train tracks nestled between my house and work. I don’t stop at the stop sign, I put my life in the hands of the universe. If there’s a train let it take me. If there’s a train then I guess that it is my time. And I gasp, and I cringe, and I hope, and I dread. And then it’s over, I’m on the other side.
Life’s a short trip. You’re the pilot. I’m not sure that I’m ready to land this thing yet. I’ve always wanted to drown, my odds are better in the water, so if we go down I’m aiming for the ground.
I want to set myself on fire. Would you please watch? See me burn as bright as I’ve always seen myself, so you’ll know I’m not a liar.
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I’m an insignificant cell on a stranger’s body
I’m nobody. I have no purpose, but still I draw parallels comparing myself against the sum of all others.
Please, I’m begging for you to compare me against everyone else. Spit it my mouth and stomp on my chest. Have no mercy and let me taste the pain so when you’re gone I’ll know exactly what I’m missing.
The root of my problems doesn’t have a root at all. There are no There are no trails of bread crumbs I can follow back through time to a single moment. It isn’t a suppressed thought. It’s the voice in the back of my head that convinces me that my thoughts were worth suppressing in the first place.
