Spinning falling slow concentric circles
being made as the bits of me fall away
pushing myself down deep,
deeply further into some unknown location
that just feels as horrible as it should.
Land, land, land **** it land
Quicker now vision being marred
just because I am straining
to see the things I am destroying
slow visuals of these concentric circles
losing their own shape and drifting off
into places I should have been
inevitably parts of me were there
but I never have been.
Land, land, land **** it land
Deeper still the descent
is no where near its crescendo
there is no land
there is no place for me to land
there is no me in this place
so where does this lead too..
some crazed rabbit hole
I have pushed myself into
This is everyday
This is my reality
It is every morning
Every morning in this place
It’s alone it is cold it’s real
Everyday I need one thing
One thing to get me through
Not a “you” but really a “me”
Some glorified vision
Some place between
This slow charging death
Everyday is a bit lower
Some how, every day is a bit brighter.
Everything is tunnel vision
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
Spinning falling slow concentric circles
being made as the bits of me fall away
pushing myself down deep,
deeply further into some unknown location
that just feels as horrible as it should.
Land, land, land **** it land
Quicker now vision being marred
just because I am straining
to see the things I am destroying
slow visuals of these concentric circles
losing their own shape and drifting off
into places I should have been
inevitably parts of me were there
but I never have been.
Land, land, land **** it land
Deeper still the descent
is no where near its crescendo
there is no land
there is no place for me to land
there is no me in this place
so where does this lead too..
some crazed rabbit hole
I have pushed myself into
This is everyday
This is my reality
It is every morning
Every morning in this place
It’s alone it is cold it’s real
Everyday I need one thing
One thing to get me through
Not a “you” but really a “me”
Some glorified vision
Some place between
This slow charging death
Everyday is a bit lower
Some how, every day is a bit brighter.
Everything is tunnel vision