It's funny how you dont care about things that are important
Or things that don't matter.
Like life
Or this poem rhyming
Or spelling
Or people understanding it
I just feel like staring at a ceiling
Or hanging from it
I don't even care if a murderer would come and **** me now
It's just an overwelming feeling pushing at my skin
And I don't even care
My best friends seem like nothing
And my enemy knife and rope are what I imagine
Blood running down the drain
I paused the movie and don't care to Un pause it
I don't even want to walk up the stairsbut
I will
And I will stare at the ceiling until the harsh morning light comes
And I will not pay attention to anything
People will call me lazy.
And I will not care
I don't even care to give this a title
So use your imagination
Cause I'm all dried up.