Who am I?
What does it mean to be me?
Shackled in this cage of a body,
I’m trying so hard to break free.

Cross my heart and I hope to die,
I say a prayer as I look to the sky.
It's time again and I don’t wanna get high,
but my will, it flickers and falters,
I just wanna escape, find sleep for a little while.

In a self-pity of distress,
I’ve created another mess;
trashing my mind, sometimes I couldn't care less.
I can feel the vultures tearing at my heart;
well, can’t ask them to leave now,
it was me who gave them their start.

****** to the bone.
Rapid with rage like a dog on a leash.
Forget the existence of time
and the nature of reality.

Time to get off of this train,
these thoughts spill out,
press play and hit the brain drain.

I’m not sorry,
it’s not about apologising.
One day at a time.
Is that only a cliche?
Is change only transitory?
Let’s find out.