It doesn't matter and it never mattered
You're smiling into your mattress while you suffocate.
The sky was black and blue like bruises that night
All the doors were open but you didn't run away.


It's completely possible you're stuck here
Even though you've never stopped for a single day
If you took just the smallest of respites
It's not impossible that your mind would break.

Maybe in half a year everything will pay off
If it does, you'll be indifferent to it anyway.
Maybe you'll lie about lying about keeping promises
And allow yourself to come of age.

Turn over, inhale, there's blood on the ceiling
Count the popcorn kernels until your vision blurs and fades.
Two hours and you're back where you began
Two hours and you're forced awake, every single day.

No sadness, no contentment, no joy, no depression
Just calm, cool acceptance of bits of existence.
The epitaph will be angry, begging to know why you'd do this
And you'll give reasons rather sounding like excuses.