Veinous overlapping, carrying life and breath to the end
Warmth radiating, wrapping, enveloping
Simmering, waiting to jump at the chance
To ruin myself Again
I don’t have to have a reason to make a mess
And I don’t like to clean it up
But I’m addicted to wallowing in self-pity
So I habitually make mistakes that will bring more problems my way
That way, I won’t be cursed with a boring, normal life
With nothing of which to complain
So stay away, if you don’t enjoy a good screwing-up
Because I haven’t yet perfected the art,
And sometimes other people
Get a little messed up
Along the way