Hard To Be Stuck In the Middle
It’s so hard to be stuck in the middle of what the hell is this thing, the feeling the
thought that goes through my mind is twisting and turning, contorting the corners
of my brain till there’s no more room for imaginable thoughts just demons and
ghouls in the night they haunt your dreams
The dream-maker’s dead, gone to heaven never again to make dreams for the
little sleepers in their slumber under blankets of comfort after a hard day’s work
that didn’t seem to end
until it did like it always does and melancholy sweeps the streets of a dark
afternoon with drab shadows of a creep come and get me you can’t have me, I’m
invincible, for now but tomorrow’s another story; little girlie prayin by her bed little
girlie reading books she hopes will stick inside her head to find acceptance
maybe love; to be loved is that the greatest gift?
Desire mercy beg pardon for our sins for the guilt that rises in us for the
inexpressible wrongs we right we can’t right the wrong the spirit in the night is
darker than this thing hovering over my head only to hurt it and be hurt by it to
grow up those are two different things all things considered the sun also rises
on the other side but not till we’re asleep. Always sleeping, ever-awake, time
stops, the panic smarts, the day of yesterday is lost, the unimportance of what’s
passed is forgotten like my lost cash. I need your stash
I’m fallin harder every time I fall more often than not as my brain turns inside out.
Copyright © Brooke Wolfe | Year Posted 2007
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