Once more.
I'm tired, I'm trying, and I'm sick of dying
Find myself under threat of holey leaves
big fat green healthy ivy
chewed on by hungry incurable caterpillars
sunlight stings at a hundred degrees
burning my back through my blue carapace
I stare up through those leaves
and cut the stem looking for rings
decidedly ambivalent to a future un-promised
I'm wired, I'm lying, and I'm ready for dying
and when you pull back the foil
fumbling out the first sign of disease
and the filter breaks
the portent omen rattles your fingers
to drop the next
and you resign yourself to being back in it
sick and in need of one more fix
and the better you was never ready to exist
and to not wake up sick feels sick
the whole day could be and should be avoided
but you can't bring yourself to not stare
so you keep staring and you keep staring
hopeful that it will all make sense
and if you see me can you still love me
and if you see me will you still love me
the heavy wind wets my dead skin
all the hairs on my body secrete
my chest seizes
my knees shake
the throat hot and scorched
the smell of shit rots into the sides of my mouth
I twiddle keys in the lock from inside the cell
fellow inmates, we should never be free
we will derive our freedom
from the knowledge of our ultimate captivity
succulent fruit dangles seductive in the fickle wind
and the sun still burns through leaves emaciated
by time and starving children and unthinking dolts
hot to hurt and well armed to chew through
every fat leaf that carries them
not too much but never so minuscule to go unnoticed
left for those of us grounded to see the cracks in the canopy
for those of us who can appreciate the light
to not soar above and look down with judgement
but to clutch the earth in panic that this might be last of it
I never even looked up
until I was blinded by the abundant lack of shelter
and what possibilities it could let in
Find myself under threat of holey leaves
big fat green healthy ivy
chewed on by hungry incurable caterpillars
sunlight stings at a hundred degrees
burning my back through my blue carapace
I stare up through those leaves
and cut the stem looking for rings
decidedly ambivalent to a future un-promised
I'm wired, I'm lying, and I'm ready for dying
and when you pull back the foil
fumbling out the first sign of disease
and the filter breaks
the portent omen rattles your fingers
to drop the next
and you resign yourself to being back in it
sick and in need of one more fix
and the better you was never ready to exist
and to not wake up sick feels sick
the whole day could be and should be avoided
but you can't bring yourself to not stare
so you keep staring and you keep staring
hopeful that it will all make sense
and if you see me can you still love me
and if you see me will you still love me
the heavy wind wets my dead skin
all the hairs on my body secrete
my chest seizes
my knees shake
the throat hot and scorched
the smell of shit rots into the sides of my mouth
I twiddle keys in the lock from inside the cell
fellow inmates, we should never be free
we will derive our freedom
from the knowledge of our ultimate captivity
succulent fruit dangles seductive in the fickle wind
and the sun still burns through leaves emaciated
by time and starving children and unthinking dolts
hot to hurt and well armed to chew through
every fat leaf that carries them
not too much but never so minuscule to go unnoticed
left for those of us grounded to see the cracks in the canopy
for those of us who can appreciate the light
to not soar above and look down with judgement
but to clutch the earth in panic that this might be last of it
I never even looked up
until I was blinded by the abundant lack of shelter
and what possibilities it could let in