She bought me fairy tales for Christmas
I can't even remember what sad gift
I dropped in her lap

Regrets, fears, promises never said and always broken
Little things I could have done
Little things I did too late

This is why I think I'm mad
This is why I don't want to keep moving
Ever forward, enclosed in this little shell
Not like I have a choice

Do I let her see these things?

What is seen cannot be unseen.

And I'm not doing this to hurt her
But I know it'll hurt
So what do I do?
Just keep hiding it?

There must be something.
To end this bi-annual cycle of drugs
destruction, fire, filth
Seriously

I don't even know what she wants me to do.
She just says keep moving
Get better, keep creating, you're doing good
Still it doesn't feel that way

Learning love songs on the guitar
Everything just seems too late
But I can picture her tonight, laughing, smiling
Free of me and my shit

Someday I can look back on this and
I don't know, make a book
wrap it in leather
send it to her

Maybe for Christmas I'll give her that
My mind is just so muddled
Tangled and twisted and dark
I can't see what to do

So I sit here on the floor and I distract myself
Wandering through electrons
pulses of blissful neutrality
I see the cycle happening again

I'm not sure if I really want it to break
Sometimes I revel in the insanity
Broke and toothless on the streets
doesn't sound like a good idea anymore

I had a dream today
I was here, you were there
You called to me and I let the connection fade
and I fell apart before my very eyes

I
do
not
want

I
cannot
let
this

Happen again.

Bi*po"lar (?), a. [Pref. bi- + polar. Cf. Dipolar.]

Doubly polar; having two poles; as, a bipolar cell or corpuscle.

 

© Webster 1913.

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