You say I'm running from myself I guess you're right Maybe I am All I know is that the reason I hear my heartbeat so clearly Is because my chest is hollow
I am made up of layers Too many layers As if my skin Was preparing to survive Out in dead winter at the South Pole
I'm annoying I'm distrustful
I'm stubborn And I'm doubtful
And secretive
Maybe downright manipulative
But most of all I'm exhausted
Exhausted of the nothingness That I float around in Exhausted of everything That comes and goes Ensuring chaos Exhausted of everything and nothing And all things in between Exhausted of **living
Too tired to live too important to die, guess the story keeps repeating doesn't it? (Front page 8/14/17)