Trashed

Thrown away and bruised. I reside in the back of my own mind. I try to get back to my center. My legs don't work, crushed under the weight of my own broken hope in life. In soceity. All comes the big let down. Slowly falling comes the night sky. Like Chicken Little I run at the slightest calamity, running and running, hoping this won't turn out like the rest. Hoping this won't turn out like the last. Hoping this won't turn out like all the dreams before. Sitting at the edge of my own dream watching it all fall to pieces, crumbling down, slowly falling away just like the night sky before. I sit rubbing my battered heart, just like a boxer after taking that last knock-out punch. I just wonder if all this wandering pays off. All this endless commotion made only to have the waves break you down. I breathe and I breathe, thinking all this might be too much, just maybe I'm wrong. Maybe all this isn't supposed to be this searing, pretentious, mighty fist slamming me from one glass wall to the next, leaving each and every failure opening and bleeding just for you to laugh and point saying you knew this would all happen. You walk away just like you do in all those dreams, just like the rest, just like all them have. Laughing and mocking with thier simple beauty. Not like I stood a chance with those brass knuckles you were wearing. Not like I would never let you win. I always let you win. I just always returned to my shadow wondering about wandering and trying to find that one place where all the motions change. Where it's all different. Where you aren't always walking away leaving me without the breath to be screaming all the things that should have been screamed. I always end up talking to the same ears about the same problems, using different words, different phrases, different sentences. Just to have them say, "I'm sorry for your loss, but you knew this would happen again..." Like I want this, why don't you take it? This great feeling, this crushing feeling. Take it away, to an island far, far, far away. To your home with your laughs and your bright eyes. Maybe then I'll have this longing peace, that should be this wanting feeling straight away.. I don't want to see those same pretty little eyes without the tears and lines mine carry. Without all these little hopes all stacked just waiting for that little kick, that little push to crash them all back down. I just want it all gone, All tossed away. Just like a little piece of trash, thrown away and bruised.