I used to have it,
Like the foam at the mouth after a poisoning.
Now I can't feel a thing...
Not a god damn thing!

I push forward with no desire to escape,
A run back and forth on the plunk of this pendulum,
As the world swings around me I remain at the centre of it,
I wish it could be said that this here is my sanctuary.

But...

I know every inch of this wooden plunk,
But am lost in it and in myself.
I know nothing else but this rhythm,
Yet my knowledge as failed me.

I am not an addict I swear, 
I just do not know anything else.
I often laugh at myself,
The thought of being someone else.

You keep saying I need to change...

Tell me how?

Tell me what...    I am to change into?

You do not want me to love;
You hide me away.
You do not want me to live:
You choke me to death.

... You poke me with a stick and blame it on me!

Well am sorry! 
I know its my fought,
I know I could be different.
I know I could walk across this plunk and change everything.

But I would wonder...                           What is it like on the other side?