Where to Hide - Athletics

I’ve got holes in both my feet

And empty shotgun shells beneath

I’ve been shooting up a storm

Intentionally trying to eliminate

What stands beneath me standing and the floor

This bed on two by fours

Where I hide my defeated side

Just held together barely getting by

Beneath my weight

Decisions that I’ve made

I habitually cycle through

And loop them on repeat

In the worst way

In my worst way

Been digging graves with my bare hands

So inefficiently

And the right ways I’ll just never understand

Lock me indoors, swallow my key

Let’s see if I can claw my way through walls

Or get some fucking sleep

And dream of missing out

The chance to shoot myself right in the foot again

Within the first few hours

Of quiet and peace, two things I’m told that I should need

But my requirements for those two polar opposites

Are two hungry mouths to feed