A Million Times and Then Once More

by Noise Pollution

Death is an early morning
spent driving somewhere
you don’t want to go
so you can be somewhere
you don’t want to be
so you can meet some folks
you don’t want to know
Death is a tired metaphor
and a tired mind
on a darkened street
dragged through the mud
and dragging your feet
it’s an unconcious feeling
in the back of your head
it’s uncomfortable truth
it’s sleeping in someone else’s bed
it’s a matter of time
it’s a matter of progress
the world you want to see
is the world that’s coming up next
set aside, especially
for everyone but you
no matter how hard you ask
no matter who you ask
Death is a night of driving
unsure of how high you are
it’s a moment of relief
after you get out of your car
and call your friends
and tell them you’re fine
as you lower your head
and you puke all night
but you made it home
after all of this
so you’re gonna be fine
and you cut your wrist
and you lay outside
as it don’t cauterize
and you finally made it home
Everything’s gonna be fine.

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