Same Old Song

With no money to my name, can I start over?
Burning words spilling out of the wound, how do I start over?
Questions invade me like I’m diseased, where do I go from here?
The voices say running it down won’t dull the ache,
I’ll take a ride on the next grain train to poverty if it means getting over you.

Overcome, so emotionally numb, words are my armor but I cannot speak.
Underwhelmed, robotic, my thoughts spill out like a gas leak.
I keep my eyes down but the sunlight betrays me,
There’s not enough music in the world to calm the sea.

The melodies play, I am lulled to angsty repose,
Rapid eye movement crawls like an ice floe.
Buildings go up, buildings go boom,
It’s just me and the voices in this empty room.

I keep working to find some peace from the thought of you,
Every person I see is a solider in this battle.
I wonder if everything I touch is shot through,
Because all I can hear in my chest is the snake’s rattle.

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