my circulation isn’t all that great
i keep showing up late
busting through your front door
bleeding all over the kitchen floor
asking for a glass of red wine
to get the kinks out of my spine
in truth i thought that you’d forget
my actions that i’d come to regret
time still hasn’t healed my wounds
i keep finding myself in terrible moods
easier to push it to the back of my mind
but then my anxiety and fears get combined
i’m not helping anyone by keeping quiet
and having a consistent liquid diet
the old me would be passed out by now
i’m sure your sick of hearing it anyhow
would you pass me the phone
i’m tired of being alone
let me hear the faint distant tone
the most calming thing i’ve ever known
persistent and beating true
unlike my broken heart through and through
whatever get’s my blood flowing again
like a hot rod in the fast lane
just to keep me operating
instead of standing around debating
what i should be doing to fix myself up
stop me from going overboard and blowing up


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