A front line soldier.

An ongoing battle;
it’s merely my part.
As I step to the front lines,
I’m petrified.

I will never be waterproof
and I will fall often –
a knockout blow always takes me down.

Out of tears, out of their meaning;
Flailing as I attempt to gather the pieces
after destructive realizations.

Call me wonderful,
(I’ve heard it before),
but never bother to show its meaning.

A helpless victim to my own vices,
and I can’t grasp concepts anymore.
One more cigarette, one more day.

Liquid temptation, take me by the hand,
lead me to Eden, help me understand.
Drift as smoke into the air, coil and spin.

The recoil strike’s never easy,
the shotgun of my mind’s lethal –
I’ve got the smile of a killer.

I always know where they are,
I always see them,
I always end up in their arms.

Comforted by discomfort;
(help me here), listen,
my shields are up.

There’s a fire inside of me,
dangerous and malevolent,
but it’ll never lay a flame on you.

Melancholia is my lover,
her eyes the bluest blue,
and I’ll take my mask from the table;

Welcome back, baby.