Late Night Shifts

I don't write much...

I can't write much...

And now when I finally am writing,

It doesn't even pertain to the post I'm 

Supposed to be typing

Because, the only thing I can think about

before I go to bed at night,

Is how many times I'll be hitting that snooze

button,

And that tomorrow in math

I'll have, to solve too many Trigonometric Functions.

But 

When I can write

When I do write

It's that rare 2 AM shift I get

for the occupation of my mind,

When the dull emotions call in sick,

and now I have to cover their shift.

By now I'm being yelled at by my boss,

that is my repressed memories

I'M TRYING to remedy what they've

been telling me.

That I can never quit this job

And if I did...

That would be a permanent solution,

to a temporary problem.

Static

You know that fuzzy feeling you get when
you sit on your foot for too long

Yeah, and then it gets really intense when

you walk on it and it feels all wrong

I like to correlate that with the perception

of static-

"-Oh hey, that explains why that's your

background"

I guess... but for me, in reality, it's my

foreground

Because as I interact with this fake reality

that surrounds me

The only thing I can ever feel, hear,

and see

Is thAT DAMN FUZzy static from my

old 90's retro T.V.

I wont fake it, I KNOW it's my fault

for perceiving things this way

Because I'M THE ONE who chose to

sit on my foot all day

I'm also the cause for myself obtaining

no amnesty

But instead a few hits from the brutal

spiked bat of self honesty

But if you want to know the actual me

go switch your radio to FM and

turn the dial until you find a vacant frequency