i hate everything
that symbolizes life
flowers, the sun & breathing
i trace my wrist with a knife

when i'm not at work
i'm high all the time
i've become a different person
in the space between the reason & the rhyme

i'm wasting myself
without going all the way
for my constant self-indulgence
out my ***, i'm expected to pay

i'm degenerating & withering
the person i was would hate who i am
forever stumbling down this existential staircase
everything i say, do & believe is a sham

theres no real semblance of hope left
and i think i'm okay with that
in the end, it doesn't really matter
whether i'm reprimanded or patted on the back

cheers to cheers-ing to the future
***** & diet soda in hand
i'm undoing the suture
i know i'll be okay wherever i land