I'm twisting my neck chaotically,
Trying to come to terms with myself.
My words are no less blank
As yesterday's were.
A fragile part of me is seeping out
And trying to tell me something,
But I don't know what.
I'm still ignoring important things,
Wondering if death really isn't
All that important to me anymore.
What I found to be a casual breeze,
A use of the head over the heart,
Is turning into a confusing mess.

They're here for me, but I don't see it.
They care--something I don't realize.
Keep it together, keep it together...
Leave for the better, you idiot.
If I use truth instead of bitter lies,
Will I feel better about myself?
Trial and error is nothing more than
A way for me to make the same mistakes
And not feel guilty about them.

Where's my instrumental?
My backing track?
Do I have steady rhythm
Or even a relevant melody?
Keep your tired eyes peeled;
You will hear your song eventually.