Skin Deep

   

Skin Deep

I can feel this.  
It cloaks me.
I can feel it inside of me.
I am listening to Phil Collins and
lighting candles.
I ran out of reasons to give a shit yesterday.
I'm so irritated by this that it burns.
I' m just trying to relax.
I lay in the cold floor and try to not think about it all.
No rest comes. I'm alone and broken up inside.
Sick of this and pissed at that.
Pointless as it is.... 
AS tiring as it can be...  
I never fall asleep on time.
Not until I'm expected to be awake.
Then before I think I'll die of exhaustion , 
I am happy like a bipolar whore.
Only I'm not a whore and I'm not bipolar.
I just have more then one thing going on in my life.
How anything could matter that much, I'll never know.
I never got to the point of that either.
Just like before.
One more thing to add to the list of things that will tare me in two.
Some times when I pray, I wonder if I bow my head 
out of the weight on my shoulders.
Or
If I am just doing what I'm told.
As shameful as I get, You'd think that I'd be regretful
 or that I would want to cry myself to sleep.
I do not think that anyone regrets something that makes them happy.
Especially when nothing else does.
They have an epidemic for sale.
Everyone answer my phone.
They took all my desire away.
It is not right that you found it.
Not when you have no other intentions then to break me.
It is okay to love someone new.
I'm just getting sick of starting over.