Objects of my Affection

but of cause some days, i just lie around
and hardly exist,
and can't tell apart what i'm eating
from my hand or my wrist.
'cause flesh is flesh, flesh as flesh as flesh,
the difference is thin.
but life has a certain ability of breathing new life into me,
so i breathe it in.
it says here we are, and we all are here,
and you still can make sense,
if you just show up and present an honest face,
instead of that grin.

and the question is, was i more alive
then than i am now?
i happily have to disagree;
i laugh more often now, i cry more often now,
i am more me.

PB&J