at the starting line
in the forests of my overgrown mind
id love to meet a part of me
that could rip the mess out of me
id love to bring him to my reality
let him breathe the earth and walk with me
but truth this is just something I am imagining
I’m a wanderer that is very bizarre and normal
flat tones in my head that ring on as my sympathy
I get to watch days go by full of apathy
its sad that I’m no longer in the field of play you see
I’m watching behind the curtain, in the stands, and I’m full of need
bubbling over at the seams
tell me I’m just delusional please
tell me I’m insane or demented with a loss of memory
but I’m just a jaded man who has seen too much to be free
my eyes can’t hide the pain behind with blood lined streaks
too much stimuli and too open-minded to stop it from poisoning me
I can’t find where I’m suppose to be
I’m funneled and thinned till I’m forced to rhyme my plead
to whom – of course to my damaged mind – it needs.
my boat’s captain all but fail to show the real me
I’m too caught up in my anxiety
I dissect it until a million pieces cut me from the inside
depression has the captain and the wanderer is lost
the brain likes to stack things but mine is welded and is a frustrating mess
it doesn’t have a rhythm or track or way of retrieving
no rhyme needed I’m frozen in spot cause it’s all I can be
the only thing that can rid me of my anxiety
to be able to BE me
in every moment that I have the chance..
re-approach my life in a new light and be alright finally…
is a clean slate
and I mean, no fucking joke, a new blank mind to canvas on
ouch so I guess ill keep struggling to complete –
the me – a walking paradox that riddles himself to sleep

One thought on “overgrown

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