Some days are like most nights I lay awake tracing shadows with my eyes Trying to sort through all of the thoughts That occupy my head Recklessly trying to find peace of mind That is the story of my life
Why is there bad and good, always an opposite? How do we know we're doing the right thing? How do we know we are going about life in the right way? How do we know?
None of it makes sense to me
Because here I am Here I am hurting and yelling and feeling in my thoughts Trying not to go crazy Lately I feel like I actually might be I haven't heard any voices or anything like that It's more of an everyday kind of crazy Where I am constantly forgetting things I shouldn't And thinking about death more than I probably should
It's just I hold on to my words like I'm holding on for my life Writing is just as painful as holding myself onto this ledge I'm about to fall off of This is too hard for me I keep feeling so terribly terribly average