Whatever, Whenever - This Town Needs Guns

How I died by the living man?

Time passed and so did I

A frog in the throat

The feelings of the sleeves in an ill-fitting coat:

I am nothing of note

I’m just fine

Most the time

I’ll get by

Thoughts never teethed

By the unconceived

How bleak

Sleep so unsound in this self-imposed cell

Oh well

Decorate floors with fabric

Dug too deep to break a habit

Buried in a burrow on borrowed time

This hole on the whole is mine

I’m just fine

Most the time

I’ll get by

I’ll survive

I’ve been losing the taste for living

Biting my tongue

Now it’s bleeding

Biding my time

Just to give in

Laying awake for days

Changing the sheets on my grave

Re-pointing the paths I’ve paved

Re-living mistakes I’ve made