but we all wake up, in the morning.

i keep my eyes closed. i'm thinking i'm still asleep, but we all wake up in the morning. we all wake up and start all over, again. everyday, the same as the last and the next to follow, the same. i pound on the keys and they drain every bit of energy my body still sustains. i'm losing my mind and control, and it doesn't hurt anymore. my body is numb to nicotine, and my eyes are tired from lack of sleep. i continue on. what i want and what i have seem to blur together and gather and come back to me as nothing. i draw up blank. what is in my heart? why is it so hard to find the courage to embrace what's in front of me? oh great reciver, please recive me. the roots of the trees climb in and out of the groud, coming up for short breaths every few feet. racing away from me. i follow them with my fingers. i need you like the leaves need the branches and the branches need the trees, like the waves starve for the sweet summer breeze, anorexia nervousa all over again. another ciggarette. more keys. more words that make no sense, running into each other, bouncing off the walls inside my head, breaking the barriers, cutting the teathers, i'm coming home.