September – Page 3

Start from Nothing

Square ones exist for me to sit upon

How can I fight for myself when you won’t even give me time to swing?

Funny how my anger is never about what I’m busy being angry with

I was sick and now I’m not but my brain didn’t get the memo

Thinking about how I’m lucky enough not to be as sad as I was, but present enough to know I’m still sad

This feeling is reserved for pregaming funerals: you know something is on its way to create change

Please just let me participate in capitalism isn’t this what you want from me?

Gosh I’m feeling the flame lick my toes again

I think I was not sober when I wrote this

Falling all around

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