In a round space of time,
everything seems to spinning in my mind.
So broken inside,
strangely enough, still alive.

Times are unfair to me,
as they are too plenty.
In the fullness of the world,
you wouldn't be surprised to find one empty.
He who has a void,
a sinking hole in the very chest,
Lest you know how to fill a black hole,
you'd only really waste away zest.

All think to medicate
is a way to an escape.
Perhaps in the moment it's a feeling of bliss,
before the feeling dissipates.
I'm high off on life,
maybe that's why I'm not feeling so great.

Counting demons inside of
my head.
Too many to count,
feels like a Hell hole,  
But that's not how I was made.

So let me pick myself up,
and wipe them off.
Before you're too far off,
right on the edge of life, ready to fall off.