Gone are the days….
too much change, my eyes barely staying open
bored in spite of it all — i’ve seen change before
there’s nothing new under the sun — the sun’s not even out
i’ve got too much to complain for and not enough
to keep me awake through the day
blessed are we who we are — blessed are my yawning
cries for help, my pickled panic button worn thin
from obsessive fondling and perhaps excessive pushing.
can i even face these people another day? can i ever turn around and say, alright, now i trust you again…trust you to fuck me over again…trust you to let me handle my own way my own way….