easy on the eyes

i need a storage bin for my wiped out soul
my dirty, spinning mind has tumbled out of control

i've been waiting for it to hit me:
i want this. i want to be better.
but the ball swings toward my face 
and then quickly
drops away

you were the flash of sun, burning hot
gristle
strong arms, weak in the knees
now i'm left alone 
and i want it to hit me

who the fuck am i?
i thought i knew
but i realized somehow that i defined myself with you

1 comments:

Dan said...

I really understand this one so much more right now. Everything makes more sense after I have enough time actually think about it. Thinking is a dying art after all. There is nothing I can tell you about it that you don't already know. I love this poem. The emotion is deep and (I can't think of the right word, so I'll leave it blank). For some reason I keep remembering the first 2 lines over and over as if it is almost haunting.

Also, this doesn't really have anything to do with the poem, but this song comes into my head when I read this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fi76rRVXR8Q