ah yes, that's right, i've drafted this before.
it's a simple fact, you see,
that life is on repeat,
i will burn myself again and again
until i finally learn to say when
and how, or how far
i'll go, or i'll let go.
the answer is no
unless it is yes.
most of the time it's i don't know
that's just the way i go.
i read through old lines
where i tried to define
what i wanted from all of this:
a purpose, a place, a kiss,
and i kept circling in my prose
falling into the same tired roles
and looking astonished at this
not unlike a wandering Alice
how did i get here?
i am deep sea diving
through most of my living
thinking thinking thinking
and soulfully sinking into solitude.
i make the same mistakes
and wander if i'll ever wake.
herein lay the reason i write
to keep track of my track record
and record my reckless reasoning
to take pause, before i panic
get the bends or blackout
to realize what i realized before
to know what i already know
life is a time trial
and i'm getting faster
and the maze is my mind
and the walls are movable.
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