The Midwestern Funk…

it’s cold and raining out. now there’s nowhere to go, but somewhere i must go for i can no longer climb these four walls full of nothing that is real. i check my pockets and grab my keys; is it too soon~there are no spoons in the sink

half-way down the street, i’m soaking wet with no regrets and no shoes on my dirty feet

i’m looking for something to jump in, a hole, no, a river. am i crazy or is it all these serotonin re-uptake inhibitors?????

i fall down in a puddle and start to cry as they all start to stare, the passers by…

my sickness has kept me paralyzed to the couch. it’s been so long since i’ve looked into a mirror, i forgot what color my eyes are…

i felt so close, but in reality, i’m still so far…

things hurt that one can’t see. i look down and notice a new scar…

i’ve been out for too damn long. i have no idea where these new wounds have come from. panic! run!

six more lifetimes pass by in the blink of an eye. how much more must i endure before i can just fucken die? i’m running out of time…

lord knows i’m a sinner, but the devil knows i aint.

one by one, they step over or around me. they continue to pretend that it’s me that they cannot see.above~below~but what about the in between???

it begins to rain harder. so i get up and start to run from that cage she calls home; i must get further…

i look around and nothing is real. i can’t describe how the rain on my skin feels~it’s almost liberating…

i come too and i’m standing in the shower and i hear her ask, “did you remember to take your medicine”?

i close my eyes, but no matter how hard i try, i’ll never again be that guy

he’s the last one i’ve seen, the one i pretended to be, to fake…

is this the last breathe he’ll ever take?

it’s raining lies tonight…

stay up; stay human

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