Turn It Off

Turn It Off

There's a light
On my ceiling
Blink, Blink
It goes
Blink, Blink

These are the things
I notice
When all I really want
Is to shut things down
I'm not sad

Just tired
I'm tired of my brain
Running the 100 meter dash
Again and again and
Again

I want to find
The person with the starter's pistol
So I can rip it from their hands
And shove it down their throat
Stop the race

I want to stop
Look around
Shake hands with the other racers
Stop and sit
Talk

I want to rest my feet
And use my voice
But not for long
I want to shut down
Even my voice eventually

Eventually doesn't mean permanently
I'll get up at some point
And help the person
With the starter's pistol,
Back to their feet

I can't be angry at them
After all,
They were just doing their job.