There are razor blades threaded in my tongue Each time I go to speak I end up cutting off someone And the ceiling cracks from the heavy weight footsteps of the creatures living above me I am terribly conscious And horribly aware of the things surrounding me The crumbling pain into which the children of younger generations were born Birthed into a dead space where we will all become deceased But when do I find the meaning of living? I've tried to be patient and I've tried to be calm But my mind has a timer that ticks like a bomb Explosive thoughts and cancerous feelings are all that patrol my mind and soul I hope I don't live to be old
I'm terrible at maintaining relationships and being happy so here's some words