Blanking Out The Bad Days

I don’t like to keep blanking out the bad thoughts
As this means missing out on whole days
In fact weeks, months and years are passing me by
Which tells me this is not just a phase

But that’s not what my loved ones like to believe
They tell me it’s my age and will soon pass
Their turpentine optimism is misplaced
As my future begins to fade like brass

I don’t like to keep blanking out the bad days
But of late I do not have much choice
See anytime someone asks if I’m okay
A tremble can be heard in my voice

Somehow though I always keep it together
Like a jigsaw laid out on a table
But when I am alone I fall to pieces
In a box with a ‘parts missing’ label

I don’t like to keep blanking out the voices
But they question each decision I make
And lure me into troubles as if they’re a puddle
When they turn out to be a lake

That is always just one foot deeper in depth
Than my fragile frame is tall in height
And I know if I keep blanking out the bad days
My troubles will be doubled at night