Always on the go
I run, though I try not to show.
I can never just relax,
laugh it out and not worry, just have a blast.
My hands are always shaking.
My mind is always racing,
just like my pulse and pressure upon me.
I creak and creak,
I am breaking.

My face can no longer fake this land slide emotion I'm facing.
My life is slipping,
Through finger and finger.
It's on to the last, like trying to palm sand in your hand.
It's no use, for I can't be helped,
because I have already given up,
on my self.