My mind is active, weighing words
Movements stilled by my fingers
No time to write of being tired
To describe the ache, instead of wish it away
What a waste
No one listens in the first place

Gold at my fingertips from all the time I've spent digging
But everyone always sees the mud first
Frustrations building up until
I'm stuck in avoidance mode

Vanishing into pillows and behind books
And fake smiles, it's so hard to be true
Not worth the effort too
When no one really cares about you

It turns out I can't commit
And I can't take stress
I'd like to pack up my bags and leave
Everything difficult behind

I want to hide under the bed and wait
For someone to take
My troubles away.