A Passing Feeling
Boring, boring
Words I write really don’t mean anything
Please don’t read my mood swings
Don’t try to figure them out
That’s the first mistake
I can’t figure them out
I let them speak and this is what they say
Talk, write, wither
Don’t let the past break up the path
Behind the stone rises the birth of a beast
Trapped and torn
Screaming and sweating
Tearing and ripping away
Breathe into focus
Toss and turn the other cheek
Beneath your feet
I sleep
Battered, beaten, and obsolete
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