And then the song
isn't enough to feel
empowered, it runs
blank through your
mind, you've heard
it too many times
and I thought, that

people were supposed
to mean so much but
where have all the
people gone, I stare
at blank walls, and

a blank paper is what
I turned in yesterday,
it was supposed to
be my suicide note
I hear mantras, thinking
there isn't one quote to
live by, I still hear old
songs, and maybe I
feel, I wonder, about
the little sparks of
memory always burning
or immediately struck,
in me felt, seen, by the
wind, the pencil rolling
off my desk reminded me
of roller skating, and my
split knee, what's the point

of friendly, I see loose leaves
hanging from trees and berries
pulled at by birds I want to be,
a little less mindful, and a little
more maddened, or nothing at
all, seems to make sense to me,
when you know something to
watch it drift away the incoming
day steals every yesterday, and a
body injured seems like a fallacy, I
thought I was a soul, what the fuck
is this, that song, the one about pain,
and meaning, and hope, it's ringing
in my head again, and I want to shut
it off but my mind just won't let me,
this mind is of an angel about to fly
away, someone in me is saying, give
it time, and I think I'll just have to
listen.