I say I have trouble sleeping
They say I sleep too much
I’m really a nice enough guy
When we first meet
But inside, you find a corrugated bastard
Who thinks too much
I say I eat too much
To be so skinny
They say I must be on crack
I really don’t know why my veins are so large
When I’m hot
Or tired
And it’s carpeted next to my soul
But it hasn’t been vacuumed
In quite some time
What is the cost of steam-cleaning?
What is the price of mental health?
I’m a little short on
That kind of cash
And nothing is current
Anymore
Except the same things
I keep thinking about
Rumination killed the real deal
Helter-skelter shining bulbs
Flashing all night long
As I lie there,
Eyes open wide
Heart beating wildly to the beat of a
Run-down clock in a thrift shop
Down some dark alley at 6:00 A.M.