For the Lack of Life

Here I lie in my dead zone
Do not even walk within five feet of its border
Just go home and dwell on it
You’ll forget in a fortnight or maybe less

I never wanted to shake you to the core
I only intended good, bright, beautiful things
It’s just that you weren’t there to tell me
When I found all but the light elsewhere

It’s funny if I lie here long enough
The grass will wilt and eventually die
Like no matter how hard I try
Things go sour all around me
It’s the simple act of being
And occupying a space
But still only truly seeing
Through the eyes of a watcher

Sometimes I feel like I’m from some other plane
And whoever it was that sent me here simply wiped out
All those wonderful memories
But they sometimes squeeze out disguised as
Part of the subconscious or imagination
Or something

I’m really not some sort of headcase
And me saying this is only letting you know that
I care too much what you think
But hell, we all are sometimes, aren’t we?
And reality can only get to be so boring
If you let it
Like I did

My little dead zone is comforting in a strange way
It’s just something I can count on, I suppose