Unfailingly unsure and uneasy at the thought of a God but I begged the sky for direction last night.
Bawling on the shoulder of the Big Dipper like it's my long lost mother,
biding my time for an answer and scrutinizing for a sign,
I still can hear nothing in return.
I'm prying open it's mouth to hear it say that I am not bad and I am not slipping away
but she is silent and
I can feel that I am.
Looking down towards the ground I cannot help but think that
this is the fate that my stars have left me;
between home and where I live.
SO I SURRENDER.
I'm giving up the bottle before the bottle gives up on me.
Wanting something more than the intoxicated chemical romances and I've grown sick and tired of chewing people up and spitting them back out.
Wanting something more for my own sake because I don't want to be a good for nothing any further and I've grown sick and tired of killing myself just like you've killed me in your brain.
Unfailingly unsure and uneasy at the thought of "Me" but I begged the sky for direction last night.