Pushing (day 730)

I roll around waiting for that shit to hit my head
Spinning relentlessly in this uncomfortable bed
I know not what has passed through this body
Just fumes and discarded waste left now
Memories that don’t lead to filled in blanks
It’s crushing, this deep sadness that spins around
The scribbled out pages of stunted thoughts
I work at pulling out words, but only vowels fall out
Shifting around uneasily like a shy cowboy
Fumbling with vices picked up from long hours
Out on the range with thoughts and dreams
I roll around waiting for that shit to hit my head