Can’t Quite Come On
It's like that cold sweat
First period PE class
And the shirt sticks to you like cling-on plastic wrap.
And the sun's out but the air is prickly
With shards of ice fragments shredding your skin
And you're running that damn mile
But you only achieve some timed goal
You never got anywhere from it
Like being in the right place at the wrong time
Can't quite ever run away
COME ON.
Stop it.
Stop trying to stop it.
I'm right here.
And that wise guy
He cracked some words off that fucked smirk
He said suck it up
Get with it
Before you miss this opportunity
But I've been here
Giving you every fucking chance
And you swing at me, not with me.
Those quaker leaves keep fluttering down my neck
And it aches
The whole damn body aches
Like some contortionist with Rheumatoid arthritis
COMEON
If it never matters
And you're just wasting away
Then do something for us both
It's so much more than a quick end
And I'm sick
But I couldn't throw up enough
Expulsion of that rot that keeps curdling inside.
The dry heaves
The runny nose and tear ducts gaping
The brain and heart stabbing and raping
Each other.
COMEON. COME. ON.
I'm just lying there
The room is still but I am spinning
I have shooting stars in my eyes
And the feathers of my wings
They Fall hard like rocks
But I'm looking to you for an antidote
To cut the nausea
I'm looking at you with the heaviest hope
The impending doom of my slipped footing
Always looking for you
The ogle
COME ON
It's been a while now
That damn itch again
The palm of your hand or the edge of your index and pointer finger.
Can't quite scratch it hard enough
Can't quite cut it deep enough
Can't quite bleed me dry enough
Can't quite be in the wrong place at the right time
Can't quite.
COME ON
And I'm sobbing
The fucking swirls of hot slush in my head just can't quite shut the fuck up.
A spool of noodles slowly sticky right out of my ears.
It's like a useless rage in a snow storm
And I'm just waiting
Like some dumb stump
In a blinding blizzard that only you can see in
COME ON!
I can't quite breathe.
Convulsions force the air down my throat
Clenched fist on one hand
Squirming fingers the other
Like the twitch from no sleep
Because sleep won't come to me
But pills do.
And I grasp my torpid state
You don't have to deal with it
And I don't have to look at you
I just can't quite come on.