i've been driving off cliffs in my dreams and staying to the lanes by day. i'm driving down one-ways and running stoplights but i'm okay.
i'm driving drunkenly self-medicated, masking pain behind ounces. till all memories are obliterated i'm fine i'm fine i'm fine.
i guess i'll just fall asleep to the sound of my own breathing again. to think myself to sleep is not where i'd like to be, but it's where i am. it's the repetitiveness.
i'm a smoke stack. i'm a pot boiling over, and i'm going to explode. i'm a breaking back, i'm falling apart, wishing i was either far or close, or neither.
i guess i'll just fall asleep to the sound of my own breathing again. to think myself to sleep is not where i'd like to be but it's where i am.
i'm a smoke stack, i'm a steel mill shutting down, i'm a river, poisoned by everything i swallow. i'm too close to fall, too high to see the road end. i'm a product of full bucket promises left empty in the end.