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And, OR
My self destruction button has gone stiff
It used to be so easy to cause devastation to myself
Such a therapeutic release
Now call the night easy sleep
No harsh words or interaction to throw fists
I'd rather sit than cause ruckus
Or space out than interact in discussion
Voluntary sleep over passing out
Wreckless nights of tossing and turning over spent out crashing down
Still quiet boredom instead of utter self destruction
Devastation is what I want to self inflict?
Or mediocracy for simplicity in a black world behind little shut eyes?
If I could fall in a moment of destructive glory
Or if I could hide behind doors and miss that thing I called life
I know the answer when I drown,
and I'm alright in a shifting tide and undertoe