Kevin Devine Follow

tonight i'm posed and popping like a peacock. i'm pressing flesh. i'm smiling big. my spinning head sings "stop, just stop." 'cause what used to calm me down just rips my life to ribbons now. so i keep smiling. i find my window and quick cut out. these days my hangman's hunger makes my gut kick. my sleeping mind could map it blind: a flask, a key, a bag, a fifth. i try to will myself away while shouting habits plead their case. so when the sun seers through my eyes, a beggar's brain can't compromise. i splash cold water. i draw the curtains. i stay inside. and i can't say that it's a sickness, more like a stranger i ask in and later realize it was a strangler slipping nooses in my den. but i was lonely, so i asked him, "could you tie that one on me?" it wasn't his fault. i was eager and i was weak.

so as i inched towards resolution, yeah, i'm not sure which life feels right. no narrow noose or the wading water will hang in hex or open eyes. i know my brother, he went one way and at the fork i heard him say, "don't you follow. don't go making my mistakes." and i realized what he meant: don't kill yourself to raise the dead. it never works. you'll only end up joining them. it never works. you'll only end up joining them.