You see, mental health is a funny thing.
for some reason, people are afraid to talk about it.
You can ask me anytime about it
Its not something I notice constantly.
Its more of a brick in the bottom of my backpack that I call life.
You see, it constantly weighs on me
But by now, I’m used to it.

You see, I used to question why I constantly felt so hollow
But now, I just assume it’s the same thing as my brick


It’s funny, you see
I almost welcome them nowadays
Because whenever I feel happy or full,
I know it won’t last
Because my brick isn’t there
Or at least, I can’t feel it

Everyone has a brick, mine is just heavier than others