Picking At Scabs

I can’t focus And I had to be told why The things I deny over and again Don’t disappear because I will them to And the things I yearn to cling to Fall through my fingers like cupped water This is the way its all been determined No I don’t turn my back on that But don’t make me pick at bloody scabs Stream forth the vitality of my soul Yes, yes I am in pain But what does it matter I mean it, what does it matter You care now; what about tomorrow? Don’t lie and say you won’t forget me Don’t tell me you will hurt So far, far away when I wilt For you Just leave me with my scabs