tomorrow:
It says there is a shiver in my spine,
and an arrow in my heart, bleeding, bleeding, bled –
no more cake for you, it cackles.
Like Lucy in the sky with diamonds but without the drugs it whispers,
always there inside my head. Preying on my thoughts –
praying for my SOUL.
It says my skin doesn't fit, but then again at least I got some,
which is more then it can say – just a voice playing the piano,
a laugh on the guitar, fate on the harp(oon).

yesterday:
Remember when we were young and it was just you and me,
seeing who could eat their popsicle sloooooooooower and I always
ate mine faaaaaaaaaaster so you would win. But I think you did the
same thing – so things never quite worked out, did they?

today:
There's that voice just on the bridge of my eyelids, FORCING
me to see what it wants.
But now the popsicles have melted and all I have left is the puddle by my
feet. Now all I have left is that voice, and it calls me closer to the edge.
I want to fly, but I won't jump. It tells me I'll too much of a COWARD,
but for the moment I know better.
I'm stuck in this two-star town, houses that all look them same. Careful now,
don't walk into a cactus, now. That would hurt, now, wouldn't it?
And I think I'm going craaaaaaaaaazy.

Maybe tomorrow I'll recover.