static.
i don't even want the things i want tonight
so there are no answers
just dull thudding
sullen shades normally calming
are boring
and these nights never end
all i can hear
is the pulse from my temple on a pillow
it reminds me of walking through snow
as a child
the same bizarre image
as far back as i can remember
it never happened
like so many other things
countless cycles to break
before it's all over
senseless
the same conversation
i have with myself
over and over
the great debate
can never end
while i have breath
as blood and air move
no matter how still i may lay
i remain.
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