**** it.
**** it.
**** it.

This manic mind
This depressed
This suppressed
This unimpressed
Pervious
Imeasurable mass of emptiness
Overflowing with sadness no, not so
Simple as that

But more an interweaving madness
A growing mass
Like a tumor
Malignant with forelorn
And adorned with ornamental sentiment
Regret and all the things one forgets
Just to **** it up and get on with it

And the day to day, it stays that way
We cut out our tongues for lack of lungs
To breathe the air required to care enough
To speak the words we need to say

Everyday
We cherrypick our blessings and forget
To give credit to the lesser triumphs we've made
Day after day

We watch the light shine brightest
And we let it fade and fade
Never reaching out into the growing darkness
For fear we will be dragged away.