Theses nights are callous
so desolate and cold
my room is empty
with the street light hum vibrating through the window
and my bed is firm
with my back pressed against the springs
and I keep wondering how Ive become the worst of everything?
and these thoughts fill up the walls
full of stone and foreign feels.
bowing at the foundation
until one day I sink again
when will I catch my break?
When will this all be just another dream?
I hold onto this sliver of concern
waiting for the day it will start again
This ceiling could be my final scene
an eggshell void of disbelief
and Ive never been to this point
of trying to get rid of me.
And as the blood flows upward into my brain
Shutting off the feelings it takes to feel complete
the stars shine so bright, but my eyes are too blurred to see
I wonder if Ill ever see the beauty, that people see within everything.