Its like an awful horror movie,
Where I'm the protagonist and the monster that refuses to die.
But in the final scene, it's crystal clear,
I'll give myself with steady hands and a dry eye.

It's like a ship on the open ocean,
I'm a sea sick traveler who only wants to get away from home.
But as I see the set of sun on land,
I realize it's the same sun that's always shown.

But for all these similes and metaphors,
I don't know what it's like anymore.
To feel the things I felt once upon a time.
To feel like the skin I'm living in is mine.

It's like the song that plays in my head.
It's familiar, and loud, and to it, my heart unfolds.
But for all the rhythms, the lines, melodies true,
It's still not enough to soothe my soul.

But for all the repetition and repose,
These sad, sorry prose,
Won't be enough to change the tune.
And I couldn't if I tried a minute too soon.