compounded tragedies make for good clutter
my brain's a place i often don't wanna be
the walls are always caving in on themselves
there's no room in here to breathe or think or feel
i lost my footing in the throes of my own self-destruction
and i fell back into who i (th)ought to be
i tried to figure you out in time to fix me
but i lost track
as i lost myself