circles erratica

sometimes i'm invisible

i'm nowhere to be seen

and kick like a tin can in the shape of a man

trying so hard to break in so i can burst out

perspectives ever changing leaving me in doubt

i've got a chronic disorder

i'm balanced between

the edge of a razor

trying to cut clean

i've got my eyes on the road

i'm trying to keep steady

i've got my hands on the wheel

i feel

i'm nearly ready

hope that me who's dreaming and that's not me who's screaming

want to wake up warm in a tattered down tarn

still for all the killing

there's nobody winning

i want to spit it out

i want to scream and shout

lying in the gutter

i heard someone mutter

we'll creep in the shadows trying to get home

like the swing in the see-saw

hard to keep steady

with some rearranging

i feel

i'm nearly ready

sometimes i'm invisible

i'm nowhere to be seen

kick like a tin can into a sugared man

hope that me who's dreaming and that's not me who's screaming

i want to wake up warm in a tattered down tarn

lying in the gutter

i heard someone mutter

we'll creep in the shadows trying to get home

i've got my eyes on the road

i'm trying to keep steady

i've got my hand

my hands on the wheel

i feel

i'm nearly ready