Right now,
I’ve got this aching back and this word-inflicted spine,
But don’t lie to me;
I’ve only tried to be
So cunning.
It’s funny
How sentences have gotten me here.

Books, by the paragraphs,
Have stood by and made me laugh,
And window panes kept all the rain
From keeping me insane,
And my fingers are shattered now.

I’ve never gotten too far with distance,
And reading hasn’t gotten me anywhere.
I’m a liar with some patience,
A realist,
But I’d hate to lie with promises at steak.

Phrases have fazed me,
Or maybe I’m lazy.
These words can’t make up themselves.
So,
I draw out these letters to maybe forget the lines
I’ve read so many times,
But somehow, I can’t put down a page,
And I’ll deny every second
When I know that I’ve scared myself to death.

Words, by the paragraphs,
Have stood by and made me laugh,
And window panes kept all the rain
From keeping me insane,
And my fingers are shattered now.

I can’t believe that believing’s just a thing of the past.
My chances are just wasted on the things that I’ve had.
Time’s dragging on,
I’m holding onto
The moments I’ve spent
Buried in syntax.

They said, “Fix it,”
But I can’t fix what I’ve broken.
Reduced to syllables,
They’re stressed,
And it’s stressing me out.

I’m a liar with some patience,
A realist,
But I’d hate to lie with promises at steak.