The New Plain

Who am I addressing now?
It seems as though I'm only ever talking to myself

The mirrors there, but I don't see my face anywhere
No matter how straight I stare

Even when there's nothing there
Still talking like its everywhere

I'm just stuck, on everything
Everything that I let get to me

Its controllable, but
It just slips and rolls
All over these fingers
And these clothes

Until its stains
Become the new plain
And not even the rain
Can make it change

What should have been an itch
Became a rash
Im just living in whatever hit me last

Letting the blow to the floor
Keep me from moving anywhere
Or keep me from moving anymore

Just letting the blow to the floor
Keep me from moving anywhere and anymore

Painting a mural on myself
Not too smooth, not too rough
It's the perfect landscape
For what I can't let go of