It seems better when you don’t know why
You feel overwhelmed and curl up to cry
It seems better when you think death is the end
Because you think your shattered heart will never mend
It seems better when life appears as random wins and defeats
Because the cycles of painful thorns repeat and repeat
It seems better when you doubt lasting love so you’re never let down
Because you’ve become comfortable always wearing a frown
It seems better when a razor lets you see your blood to know you’re real
Because physical pain carries so much greater appeal
I wish I knew these things were true but I know they are wrong
I wish I could not feel beyond hearing what I find in a song
I wish I could escape my grief but I know too well the cause
I wish I could bring my cluttered, angry mind to a pause
Clay The Scribe 