Crossed Lines by Alejandro N. Marrero 6/11/2020

There’s an ache in my chest and a wound in my mind
They say it’s terminal while others say I’ll be dandy or just fine
I’m tired of opinions yet everyone keeps throwing them my way
It’s like they don’t understand my reasons for lights or dark days

There’s a road we all travel some say it’s found in a line in our hands
You may call it life but one thing’s for sure we all dissolve in the end like sand
I’m at this place right now and here because you absolutely brought it to me
Don’t pretend it wasn’t on purpose the scent of shit is from your own knee

There’s a wound in my chest and an ache in my mind
It’s considered chronic but there’s sedatives to rewind or pass time
I’m tired of people answering all I ask with a another question
Is this really therapy or some warped up looney tunes invention?

I finally put the car in park because I’ve run out of smooth and black asphalt
Instead up ahead is a frightening way forward and you’re right it’s probably my fault
I’m lost all my marbles or they’ve come loose rolling around in my head
Cause I’m still swaying and walking forward crossing bridges that look dead.

With every step that I take on the travels we all must endure
I wonder if falling might be part of the problem or realistic cure
Yet with an ache in my chest and a wound in my mind
I’ll cross that bridge anyways wether it’s deadly or fine

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