As always I'm dreading just leaving my bed,
I've got a hundred thoughts threading fog through my head.
Another day to live, twenty-four hours of fight,
I don't have much else to give; I used it all up last night.
Am I the only one to see colour in different shades and hues?
'Cause lately this world seems duller, the Earth has lost it's muse.

My body is aching through every bone and joint,
and my will is breaking, for I no longer see the point.
I grasp fire just to feel pain and stare at the sun to go blind,
It seems I've got a plastic brain and a melting mind.

I'm stressing out in a traffic even though I'm in no real hurry,
but in my head details are graphic of every fear and worry.
Another week to go through, seven days of pointless waste,
you know the feeling too true, you know it's feel and it's taste.
Am I the only one to see colour, instead of just white and black?
'Cause lately this world is duller, there's so much that we lack.

My body is aching from my head down to my toes,
and I'm just faking the knowledge no one else really knows.
I wonder if I'm sane, and if I'm alone and confined,
it seems I've got a plastic brain and a melting mind.

Why does it feel that every person I meet isn't real?
As if they're stuck in a dream, or following a line down stream.
Does anyone else think like this?
That there's something we all miss,
'cause wasn't life a gift of bliss?
Instead we regret and only reminisce.

My body is aching through every limb and pore,
and no matter what you're making, you'll always need more.
Can't be another link in a chain; bound, locked and intertwined,
I suffer from a plastic brain and a melting mind.

you are the shadowed echo of a shapeshifter that once pulled at  the shackles of my sanity

the seasons change around us, autumn arrives, barely breathing. Those inclined to pray, pray pointlessly. We gather red leaves and pile them on top of a coffin of colour

I plan to travel. I get a wall map and some red pins, piercing every place I want to visit. This is the closest I have come to violence; the closest that most of us would

but I am not you, no, nor your passive peers. I take the throat of the Earth and shake it

oceans rise, sand swept, country boundaries knocking together like knees. I am asking for peace, don't get me wrong

but who can have that power and relinquish it, go back to stacking fruit and canned peas

I was the ground, air and water, but there was never any fire in me. I was terrified of the flames.

Fire burns and reduces things to ashes, ashes that I am forced to bathe in

the wind blows them into my eyes and I know I am no longer a friend of the overwhelming elements

just an oracle card floating on top of the sea

sanity for the privileged,
survival for the ******,

these dregs of innocence
left in crumbling hands,

the waking, the re-waking,
the reckoning sure to come,

the conviction shaking,
bruised fruit whispering

in the shadow of an eclipsed
sun. Bite me here and here

and here, and hear them like
the wind sweeps through

a deserted road, silence all
but new.