Highly strung

Your smile is a treacherous road
To kiss upon
Because the strings that pull the corners up
Are easily swung
In to that contemptuous  frown
Because you’re highly strung
And I wish I could say I could relax your soul
But I’m intensity personified
You might be taut
But you’ve got nothing
On my mind.

Feel free to like, share, comment and follow.

Posts every Tuesday.

battle

I want to be like my granddad

not this on edge battle

constantly within

I want to be one of those men

who is calm and collected

even through adversity

but my brain works out of sync

with my wishes

and instead I’m constantly

wound to the highest of settings

looking over my shoulder

always expecting the worse

and making myself grieve

before any news has even been heard

I put myself through the ringer

always churning out anxious messes

I think I might just have enough of this

fucked up shit in my mind

that had I been born in a different time

i’d have been institutionalised

and sometimes I think maybe

it’d be easier

in a straitjacket

to save myself from this responsibility

of being a fully fledged human

i’ve got these contradicting sides

of me, arguing.

one side says I want to be a self sufficient man

but that despite that want, I don’t think that I can

and another side of me wants to run away

or maybe just induce myself into a coma

and never wake