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To Feel Alive
11 years ago
I do what I do to feel alive inside.
I need that raw fire in my blood.
I need the ache and the agony.
I'm tired, tired of that dull numb emptiness.
I need sore and tired but satisfied.
I need that burn in my throat,
That blossoming warmth in my stomach.
I need that harsh scrape in my lungs
And the tingling in my veins.
I've grown too comfortable in this little box
Where you've kept me since you realized:
I'm wild.
Maybe you thought you were saving me,
And maybe in a way you were.
But a broken bird needs to fly again.
Maybe you thought I would be content,
Four walls and faux freedom.
But I'm not a liquid babe.
I don't conform to my container.
I don't conform at all.
I'm smoke drifting from a half-gone cigarette.
Away with the wind.
I need to feel.
I do what I do to feel.
Every toke,
Every drag,
Every shot,
Every hot pulsing thrust
Takes away the numb paralysis
Takes off my blinders
Puts me in motion
Fills me with fire.
I'm tired of being so cold.
I'm sick of feeling alone
When you're so close.
You'll never understand me my dear.
I'm a mystery,
I'm the epitome
Of all the things you never wanted me to be.
I'm history, but the past can hurt.
And I know I'm running.
Like you wouldn't be afraid
If you'd been where I've been.
Like you've never run before.
But maybe I'm not running away.
Maybe I need to feel the wind in my face
The sun at my back
The firm earth beneath my feet.
Maybe I'm running to run.
Maybe I'm running to feel.
I'm tired of being numb.
And I'm tired of being a disappointment.
I don't fit in your little box.
I have wings to cover the expanse of the sky.
And I'm going to fly with them.
I'm going to fly.