By Joshua Blake
It’s Always The Same:
I’m always looking for you, but I don’t know what to do.
I can’t sew this stitch, because I’m too young. I’m a god damn love-sick son of a bitch.
I’m a sucker for your honesty.
But I’m still a deaf listener.
Give me a lobotomy, and maybe I’ll hear you callin’ me.
What’s the point if I make no sense?
Why is my mind such a destructive mess?
I love and hate myself all the same.
My life is Like a never-ending board game.
Now it’s my move, and I can’t roll the dice.
A lover would sure be nice.
Hell, anything would suffice.
I could go on and on but if I do, something’s wrong.
I guess I’ll cut it short right now.
If I don’t, I’ll be sure to bruise my brow.