i just want things to go back to normal

the best i can do is try
the time is ticking by
i'm trying not to cry
this is making me want to die
i say i'm fine but i know it's a lie
i hold back a sigh
"i'm just trying to help"
"you're not an ally",
i reply
i don't sit so people don't see my thighs
i try to keep my mouth shut, but open you pry
we are low on supply
so i guess i better retry
more knots i will tie
alcohol, i apply
to my cuts, while tears fall from my eyes
you aren't someone who which i can rely;
please, don't ruin my disguise

i'm a mess
i'm heartless
i'm a mess
i'm useless
i'm a mess
i am done with everyone
i'm a mess
y'all don't have to clean me up,
i promise
i'll be fine
i always am
haha
i'm a mess

i can't pick up the pieces
every time you break
i have my own
to retrieve from the floor

You don’t know what it's like
To try
And try
And try
With no results

You don’t know what it's like
To cry
And cry
And cry
Tears full of salt

You don’t know what it's like
To die
And die
And die
Every second you're alive

You don’t know what it's like
To lie
And lie
And lie
But nothing
Will ever
Ever
Ever
Get better.

"she said she was too busy"
she hates you. you should just back off.
"he said he doesn't have that many friends"
he wants you to be a better friend, you aren't there for him.
"they are tired"
i shouldn't have texted them that late, they probably hate me now and want me to leave-
"stop.
this isn't real
my brain is making **** up."
but what if i'm not...?
"oh..."

there once was a tailor
who lived in a place unknown
his place was small
but i guess, it was home

he sewed clothes
for people far and wide
with nothing but a thin needle
and fabric by his side.

his job wasn't easy
he worked and worked all day
and the money it made?
well, it barely paid.

but he loved what he did,
with his stitches and thread,
so every night he would lay down
and dream happily in his bed

one day
he got a strange request
he had to make a special robe-
a golden dress.

he tried to explain
this was more than he could do
that this is impossible
but she didn't believe him- so now, he's blue

he tried and tried
but it couldn't be done.
she wanted hundreds of stitches
but he could only do one.

he felt so awful
judging many times over three
so he hung himself
on a branch of the olive tree

the woman was mad
at the tailor
she called him lazy
called him as useless as a sailor

so in the end
nobody won
she didn't get her dress
and the tailor killed himself
because that task simply couldn't be done.

and now,
the olives that come from the tree
remind everyone of him-
and what couldn't be.