Tuesday, 26 March 2013

'It's Nothing'

I'm tumbling, mumbling, drunk.
You ask me what wrong, I say 'rum'.
I'm logically, sensibly happy.
But I can't shake the beat of this drum.

Its driving me, forcing me, on.
To a battle I never wanted to fight.
I'm bleeding, receding, run.
I don't want to die here, it's not right.

I don't understand or demand, reason.
It's feels foreign living inside my head
I should be, could be, just fine.
But instead I feel lifeless and dead.

You're breathing, believing, for what?
The knowledge I must be alright.
I don't know what's bringing me down.
But I swear that I won't lose this fight.

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