Smoldering senses

I can't catch a break,I can't catch my breath-
the sky's a blinding cage under which this body
twists and bends and weeps
like a wounded seagull;
an oozing sentiment predicts the end,
the blinding end,the end of pride,
wishful thinking and faith,my everything
dropped as sacrifice at the bottom of the sea;
see?nothing can last,not even time-
clocks burn beneath our feet,while minds die
inside wooden ghost ships in broad daylight;
I wish for sanity,for flawless bones,
for humid eyes,for tranquility,
for more than I could ever gather together
without staining my soul with sins;
predictions make me nervous,as do promises
and nightmares and petty hearts-
how long before this spirit cracks like a numbed branch?
I can't catch my breath,I can't catch a break...