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Trying To Move
Um, does drinking justify the sadness or is it the other way around?
Feel like I’m floating, yet heading towards the underground,
The way I live justifies the results, everything that happens to me is condign,
And now you know why I go straight for the vodka, skipping the beer and the wine,
I’m so scared I’m dying a terrible death, I have to kill myself before something else does,
My body is changing for the worse, I’ll never have the strength or happiness that once was,
I’m just trying my best to get through this cess pool of life, incessantly wading,
For a sliver of happiness, forgetfulness, in a sliver of time, my life I’m slowly trading,
I just want to forget who I am, wake up and start anew,
Look back on my previous life and laugh - ‘never again will that be you,’
It doesn’t work that way, or if it does I haven’t figured it out yet,
I continue wagering whatever well-being I have left, yet it’s always a losing bet,
Every day is the same, the thoughts remain the same,
Change, I would but these demons I can’t possibly tame,
Of life, on life, trying to get through it, I’m just trying - or at least I think I am,
Sad and unable to intelligently elaborate on it, if life were an inbox then my destiny would be spam,
Probably by choice, an unconscious choice, now a conscious choice,
Drinking makes the shortcomings okay, like I’m a mime without his voice…
