Losing my mind, this life is nothing but misconstrued blackened hues.
Why the **** does everyone cover up truth and trade shoes?
I want no part in this mess.
If I could I’d get myself back and be done with this forced petty distress.
If I could see the stars in the sky, maybe I wouldn’t think so much about my lack of time.
I can’t even appreciate the sunshine.
Because all anyone wants is my demise.