Dear Mister ConductorDear Mister Train Conductor,Dear Mister Conductor
Every time I close my eyes I feel the tracks and taste the steel Every time I look around I see the train and hear the whistle blow Stuck inside the frame of mind I see my death a thousand times again I hear my voice, it says goodbye, it says this last act is selfish A thousand times again and I'm so sorry Every time I lose control it comes back to this Psychosis state of mind has me pinned to my bed again And I can taste my death, my sweet crushing release is So bittersweet because in the end it's never really real Cult of inaction has my body lyi
Morning PsychosisI went down to breakfast, thought everything was fine. Then I went back to my room to pray and knew I had to die. What ever came over me? I'm sure I'll never know, But the sweet sweet voice in my head said 'it's your time to go'.Morning Psychosis
I can't breathe I can't feel anything but heat And I scream, but no one comes to comfort me. And I fall (why am I alone I can't recall) To my knees and I see it all my possibilities They narrow down as I see my body Lying dead upon the ground.
As I'm choking down my screaming there's something I must do. I should stop this fatal meltdown,
| I live primarily in my mind, but I emerge from thought occasionally to do bothersome but necessary things like work, eat, sleep, write, etc. I'm a quiet person, I don't share easily, but I wouldn't call myself shy by any means. I tend to prefer things make sense. I would think most people prefer things make sense but experience tells me this either isn't the case or many people simply don't know how to hold onto sense when they find it and certainly don't know how to make sense themselves except for rare occasions when they happen upon it by accident. I don't suppose I'm much better off than the average person when it comes to making sense either of myself or of anything else but it certainly is nice when it's stumbled upon. At this point in my life I'd dearly like to stumble upon some sense as I seem to be lacking any. |
Doubt
Apprehensive
--
the more you try to erase me, the more the more, the more that i appear
Previous PageNext Page