I cant bank on my words
to change what's on my heart
My hands are calloused
but I'm still swinging in the dark
Something has to change
Help lines and hope wanes
It's been 400 days and I still feel the same
Baby lung alarm clocks
Substance fed anger
And I'm not moving anymore
3 hours of sleep is as good as it gets
Unloading threats; floating upon seas of regret
Weathering swells in a sinking ship
**** your pale skin, thin lips, and bony hips.