It's been two years
since I last wrote
even though the words
still climb up my throat
and if i ignore their swollen grip
around my neck, it tightens till I choke.
but I ran and buried myself in our sand.
In effect, I've died by my own hand.

When you've spent ten years at the bottom of a well
trying to drown but gods keeping you around,
You'd scream but you're afraid of sound.
So you tread water
floating in this greedy hell
as the light fades on another hopeless day
down in that well, is where you'll stay.

If we pass as strangers on the street
and our glances by chance did meet
would you recognize the damage you've done
or would you keep on walking
pretending you were blinded by the sun?

I've spent five years at the bottom of the bottle
trying to forget that I was ever alive
I'd die, but would even that be a lie?
Tired, I wasn't built for the battle.
I'm a homeless solder begging for my next meal
but you wouldn't glance, or even consider how I feel.

07/22/2005

Posted on 07/23/2005
Copyright © 2024 Alex Chambers