everything is a circle
progress is a joke
i promised you i'd quit but still
i smoke and smoke and smoke
you told me that you loved me
i promised you the world
but you ran off for another
left me to grow alone

king's **** when the prince feels power
depression kills when the soul feels better
ethered my life, i'd take it all back
but you don't wanna hear it
so now i'm sort of trapped
ball of regret, looking back on that night
intoxicated and manic shoulda known i ain't right
but what's done is done, all you can do is live
and hope she forgives you for the times you did sin

its when you fall asleep at 4 in the morning
knowing full well you have to wake up at 7
its 6 cups of coffee and a pack of smokes
anything to get you through the day

its stumbling into work 10 minutes late
hoping to God that nobody asks you why
its shedding weight because you can't eat anymore
and self-deprecating jokes about your raccoon eyes

its when your posted up at the bar
with no clue what the time is
its that sinking feeling in your stomach when you think
the bartender knows you better than your own friends

its trying to move on
but not believing you can
its wishing she still loved you
and that you could find peace again

I always feared thunderstorms
Lightning has killed many trees I loved

I understand that lightning
is a necessity as it replenishes
the nitrogen in the soil

But it destroys to create life

Tonight the thunderstorms roll
The thunder remains high
just growling low
as the lightning skips from cloud
to cloud

Then all at once
a bolt hits close by
and the thunder
kabooms . . .
rattling windows
Making your heart
skip several beats

The wind picks up
the sirens go off
and you chek out the radar

You breathe a sigh of relief
as the approaching storm splits
and goes around you .

It rains hard . . .

Then it stops . . .
so has the wind

Aloft the clouds
are race horses
galloping away as fast as they can

They have business elsewhere

Now all is quiet
a feeling of relief
soaks in unlike
the water running
rushing down the sides of the street

An after the storm moment
of peace when the air feels as clean
as the thoughts you . . . you don't have