My Prison is of My Own Making

Nov. 24, 2004

I have strep throat
And I’m smoking like a chimney
How I wish I could just sleep
And dream wearily
But my mind it will not rest
My heart cannot be at ease
The same old patterns they must appease
God forbid they quiet these
I once thought I had found the answers
In the book that Bill once wrote
But now it seems I’m at a loss
And alone again
The clock ticking 1:38 a.m.
Noone to call
Nowhere to go
In my mind I must rest
Oh to escape these impenetrable walls and be free of this prison
I have created amongst the obsession, the worry, the fear, the doubt
But faith conquers all one voice says
But lust will take it away says another
Then reason replies
“It’s only temporary”
But that temporary asylum from my insanity
Pus all three at ease
Torn and broken
No glue to hold
I thought I had found the pieces
Thought I was building with the right blocks
Only to listen and watch my parts tear each other apart
Still lost and confused
Lonely and amused
Aren’t I supposed to be an adult now?
Or will this mental illness always follow?
Oh fear, oh worry, oh regret
How can I change now?
And leap such a great leap on my own
The insanity is safer, kinder
The serenity is lonely, colder
I think I could write until eternity
And find all to be the same
Without change there will no change be
Let the change begin with me
Easier said than done, you see