Fighting the Fire.

Cooking from the inside out,
my insides bubble and boil.
I'm fighting to keep up with my head,
I'm fighting the strife and toil,
and I just want to scream and shout.

No one said life was easy,
and boy, I wish it were.
I can't seem to stop the emotions,
or the way they jump and stir.
I can't seem to step away from me,
and see what the f#ck is wrong with me.

Oh, how I wish I were unconscious.

I am a monstrosity in misery form,
quite possibly the ugliest kind of porn.
Kind of like if you masturbate against the cold steel floor,
to a magazine on weight loss for the poor.
Well, I'd call that miserable, wouldn't you?

I'm fighting for something,
but I'll never know just what
and I just want to say that "I don't give a f#ck",
but I'll always feel at least one thing.
I could be smiling on the outside,
and be bawling on the inside;
I could be one huge confusing person.

My heart's been pounding pretty hard,
I'm surprised if you can't hear it.
I'll be waiting for your lips,
and waiting for an answer to this.
When the blood stops in my veins,
and when I scream from all the pain,
just know that I'll be waiting for you,
to do what you must do.

Maybe I'm on fire,
or a little too ice cold.
Well, whatever is your desire;
I'll just try to be for you.

Please don't mind the tear drops,
or the bloody bite marks on my lips,
I'm trying hard to fight this,
and I'm not sure why I won't stop.

Well, maybe it has something to do with you...

Sarah Gammon ©
11/12/06

Thanks for reading -xxx-.