There are razor blades threaded in my tongue
Each time I go to speak
I end up cutting off someone
And the ceiling cracks from the heavy weight footsteps of the creatures living above me
I am terribly conscious
And horribly aware of the things surrounding me
The crumbling pain into which the children of younger generations were born
Birthed into a dead space where we will all become deceased
But when do I find the meaning of living?
I've tried to be patient and I've tried to be calm
But my mind has a timer that ticks like a bomb
Explosive thoughts and cancerous feelings are all that patrol my mind and soul
I hope I don't live to be old