grind

Standing over a tomb of my past self
In a limbo again: my bargain-bin version of hell
They say, home's where your heart is, and mine is all shattered like mirrors
I am going tone-deaf, because no one was willing to hear me.

How do I reach for the stars, being neck-deep in a hole?
I wish for the earth to tear open and swallow me whole
I scratch over my unhealed scars with a fine-tooth comb
Sifting through all the couldas, as I stand over my tomb

I should gouge out my eyes, drown the senses and cut off my ears
I am tired of fighting my demons, my feelings, my fears
In a constant improv, in a theater of me and me only
I would crawl to the top just to justify why I'm so lonely

They say, dress for a job you are wishing to have
The tidal wave took away all the clothes that I had
I wish for an ace up my sleeve, but I'm stripped to my skin
Standing over the tomb of myself, thinking whether to step
Right in.