I could pull my hair out
I could chop ham in two
I could smack someone’s face off
Or hold my breath till I’m blue
If I ran down the street screaming
Or pulled out all my hair
If I pounded the floorboards
With hands bleeding bare
I suppose I could yell
And hurt those I love
It wouldn’t be so bad would it?
To blame the man up above?
But in the end I’ll just sit here
And write till it sizzles
Till it thaws and dissipates
Till the self inside twizzles
The rocks pile up higher
The pressure worth crying
But for something so little
It’s not really worth dying
Pen to paper, soul to sky,
The clenching will dry
Back to comfort will fly
The arrogance-fueled explosive high
Very nice. I especially liked “I’ll just sit here, And write till it sizzles…” It sounds like we’ve both ridden THAT train a lot… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hahaha – yes, no doubt!
LikeLike