Are there parts of my life that feel totally broken?
Things I can’t swallow, or things that I’m chokin’
down to my stomach like mom’ soggy spinach
That make me wish 2020 would vanish?
When I think of my dreams, many unspoken
Or my successes that seem like merely a token
I am pressed down by their sheer magnitude
And fear an awakening that’s brutally rude
What if my dreams vanish the moment I’ve woken
Never to manifest, like a warm bath I could soak in
Instead they just taunt me, escaping my grip
And the cold dirty tub water is the water I now sip
Sometimes I wish that I wasn’t a dreamer
That my ambition was less, so I could finally relax
Instead Im racing so hard I could break my femur
Which would keep me in the red and out of the blacks
I am broken mostly in invisible places
Like my heart and my soul and just stuff like that
So it’s hard for the repair man to know how to fix me
Because the instructions are in Spanish and, I think, for a cat.
Without the instructions I have no choice but to be
Just who I am, without hope for an elsewhere
And I think that’s my ticket to finally become free
That I’m slowing to stillness, in this one hell of a year.
