Crazy

June 28, 2003

In just a matter of time all of it won't matter at all.
In the settled dust, the people will look to the old
but they won't see anymore of me than I can see right now.
I am this vast collage of experiences just waiting to be seen.
I hover just on the edge of the lives of those that I love.
My eyes linger over the faces of people I would have loved.
When my breath leaves my body, I will finally find out
whether all my old and intense memories were in vain.
I may finally find that peaceful sleep that never comes to me.
Nothing makes the days pass any easier or with any more sense.
The sense of knowing what I'm doing, or the hope that
I have done as best I could ever have known how to do.
I never wanted to be here for this burden I carry.
I never wanted to offend anyone by asking for help to carry it.
I never wanted to pry open my eyes and find contempt staring back.
My hopes are just scored into my flesh by way of good days.
Holding on dearly to the world with my fingers digging deeper.
Burying this hopelessness until someone asked me to dig it out.
They're here on display, all the things I need to say.
The ones I wanted to hear me aren't here to hear it.
I have nothing else to say, until I take another breath.
I'll keep talking and spilling the illness upon the floor.
I'll try to keep it out of me until I can walk upright, again.
I'll try to keep it to myself, so I don't feel the pity.
I don't need to hear anymore how much I did wrong.
I don't need to know anymore how much I sacrificed.
I don't want it anymore, the broken pieces of me.
Instead, I'd like to walk the lonely beach again
and feel like I am necessary to those I took into my life.
It was all I ever wanted to keep me alive. Just to be necessary