Distraction

An otherwise gentle sound, like the opening of a door
Explodes the shit outta my head these days
I feel like getting ashtrays
smashed into my mind
and smoke curling from my eyes
There's no way to afford any more self-damaging
Encaged in some kind of light
and avoiding dark corners late at night
for naked fear of compromise
I seem to be engaged in some kind of fight
where everybody else's taking advantage of my victory
but myself

But oh well, isn't it delusional
the way animals have been fed fine
and the moon shines down with perfect angles at my sight
if only it didn't hide from me the woods
or the whole forest on fire
burning to its core
the way animals actually choke to the density
of my desire

A street still follows down the same path
and the clock walks the same lines every day
when I'm up early in the morning, almost in sync with everything
I just don't know what lines to say
neither which play I'm acting in
Tell me once again
there are rehearsals every night
for every wild life that insists to begin
no matter how late or how thin
the path insists to grow

But oh well, isn't it delusional
or it has always been fraudulently shown
the way animals have been fed fine
and a moon shines down with perfect angles at my sight
if only it didn't hide from me the woods
or the whole forest under snow
frozen to the bone
the way animals have become raw fossils
the ice age that trapped my heart
while i strayed, distracted
from the root of the issues
drowning from the start

My winter's performance, in the nearest theater
ignored and left aside
until my fauna screams out, louder and clearer
life slipping away
but lost ain't yet the fight.