by Nick Gisburne
I kneel, to face my demons and confess
My soul is rotten, split along the seams
No sympathetic speeches can suppress
The disappointing dirt of broken dreams
I wander, wounded, wild, without a plan
Abusing all around me, bad or good
But as my faults and failures hit the fan
They shatter into shit; I knew they would
The future serves a drug of my design
A bitter cocktail, poison mixed with pain
And every nerve and muscle that is mine
Is tortured by the fever in my brain
I fear the world around me will collapse
And I will fall, bewildered, through the gaps
