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
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