This morning I raged
with the breaking dawn
screamed until my throat
was sharp as razor blades
my imagination plays
bad jokes on me
runs out of control
I borrow happiness from
people around me
but I have none of
my own
best days are just
distant footprints
in a reconstructed past
my belly burns
coming back to bleed
me dry
I run with the pack
but I am not the Alpha
I should
but you're back with him
so it's all wasted
my feet burn on the coals
while your plot unfolds
I unravel
like cheap socks
or an old baby blanket
strands of what I once was
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