Lack of Purpose


All these beautiful words are choking on the smoke

That I carry in my throat like a pardon letter worthy

And I often have to hurry to keep myself awake

But what often is at stake is why I tend to worry

I'm parting at the seams but still in my departure

And every now and then I slip between the waves

I behave in such a way that may suggest I am forgotten

But in my spacing wastes I know I never am

I feel an empty vessel that's desperate for touch

A toxic thing that tries to sing and chokes upon its tongue

Bathed in lots of green and grey and smelling like the fields

Yielding to the simple fact that I am lost to change

Estranged the girl who was, apparently my reason

Exposed myself to all around just to hang my head

Live alone with just enough to slide along the side

Never weeping, only breathing, frying all the time

Keep the glass to my lips to ward away the barrel

And watch me close and lend a hand when the dark invites me in

Because I'm there now and I'm tilting

Because I'm in dire need of friends.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This website's community confuses me.

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