Murder She Wrote
It’s hard for me to take
My own advice
I’m writing what I’m fighting
But I’m still playing
With my life
I don’t even understand
The issues of my own brain
I go from addiction to affliction
But I married my pain
I find myself in consistent miscommunication
Simple minded people
Believe it’s the only form of communication
Passive aggressive
They breed confusing situations
Then when it comes to confrontation
They admit no responsibility for
The feelings of hostility and aggravation
I have already run the out of
Patience
I’m ready to put myself into solitary isolation
Me myself and I
Is the only consolation
In the face of the nonsense
I’m constantly facing
This anxiety still has my mind racing
Adrenaline in my bloodstream
Has my senses on heightened elevations
Eyes wide open
And a mind perceiving
Shocking Revelations...
Is there anyone capable
Of really loving me?
When push comes to shove
Why is it the ones closest to me
That are shoving me?
And it’s usually in the direction of the door
I remember all the places
I’ve been thrown away in
And that I can’t go back to anymore
So I stay ready for War
Post traumatically traumatized
Means I’m not the same me anymore
I have a disorder
That seems to puts my perspective
In a different order
I see sabotage and problems
And a pervasive sense of chaos
And disorder
So I’m never really at ease
A mind like mine
keeps me on the Battle Lines
So it’s hard for me to find any Peace
I see relationships I used to be in
Spiraling away
Like fallen leaves
I know why hearts
are always drawn with wings
Because love flies away and leaves
And when it’s gone
the feelings
That were once the feelings of love
Turn into a sickness
Like it’s become a disease
Bring me to my knees...
Take the blade from out of my back
And draw it across my throat
She said she loved me
But it was really murder she wrote.
Copyright © James West | Year Posted 2018
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