And holy hell some nights the pain is a grenade
Tucked away in the gallows of my skin
I breathe in and I feel it's steady ticking
I anticipate it's explosion
Yet I shatter every time
By morning, I am still picking up my pieces
by the glow of the 5 am sun, or whatever it disguises itself as at those raw hours of untouched life
my eyelids heavy, nostalgic for their old estranged friend named rest
I shuffle across the floor, one foot in front of the other
Elbow by elbow
I have rug burn from all of the falling
The shaking in the moon lit ache
So deep in my body I can feel it burning holes
The wounds so sensitive even the breeze rubs me the wrong way
I watch the clock, it's fragile hands dancing an age  old dance
The numbers mimicking me, my bloodshot eyes and my fragile heart
I am trying to follow them, let them lead me away from this hurt
But the saying "time heals all" is just an overused line