The days move fast. Before I know it I’ll be out of them. It’s what drives me. The idea death is waiting with its grin. So I figure the only way to win is to make the most of every second. I can’t waste time waking up. I jump from the couch where I slept again. I laugh at what’s coming.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
Comments
Post a Comment