ash enslow (july 16th,1982 / Monterey, Ca)

Must there be a name for an illness like this?
My head is half broken, my heart is homesick

Pushed and pulled in no direction at all
I stay stuck in between; balanced on one leg I crawl

Distorted and disfigured, my insides turned out
Every pain I contain I keep stored and saved for a draught

I didn’t sign up for a game I would loose
I never deserved to be cheated by you

The control only hides in the game keepers mind
Why go to cruel measures to destroy such beauty divine?

I’ll have you and answer of swift consseur
You’re a better trader left behind than a false commrad endured

It wasn’t ok to switch up the rules
I read the fine print-
So tell me where it said that I played the fool?