I lament so many things...
I scream in instances of adversity,
I calculate far too far ahead of the data,
And I surmise so much my foot should stay in my mouth.

I carry love around like it's luggage,
And if I don't want to carry it I don't, and I'll be damned.
I found most of my weaknesses and I just look at em'.

I still wipe off the bottle tops of beer bottles,
because Mike did.
I tear the top labels of liquor bottles,
Because she does.

The imprints you face from others can haunt you forever.

I've forgotten most of what I once was.
I forgot how to express myself well. Hell, even badly.
I skirt around ideas that swim too deep in me,
And I'll be too far gone before the scratch in my original voice
Brings back the boy I knew who had a good thought about him.

If this broken-down mess of a man is what it means
To become the person I'm on the way to or am
Then I ought refine it now or let be lost the last bit
Of clinging idealism and just get to it.

Dark places breed dark thoughts. Hard lives live hardly.
Love and everything else can't cure what isn't being shaken loose
From the seedy afterwards of an unsavory opinion of the self.