everything is so messy,
i feel this aching pain when i'm at home, and when i'm out with friends i feel lonely.
my mind feels like my bedroom, a right off.
sure, you can tell me to clean it and i can try,
i can want to clean it but no matter how many times i shove that ***** laundry back into a pile; and no matter how many times i throw everything out,
it all comes back out sooner than later. i crave a tidy life, i tidy mind and a tidy room, but it's so hard to keep up with.
i would rather let sleep cradle me in it's gentle arms for the rest of the day, and do it tomorrow.
though, tomorrow never comes and thus my room and my mind stay the same.
a vicious, but comforting cycle.
i like it when things stay the same, i like it more than i should.
all i've had my whole life is change,
now i find comfort in static, i find comfort in knowing what's going to happen tomorrow.
i find comfort having routine even though the cycle i'm in is destructive and makes me hate myself, it's hurtfully comforting.
that doesn't make any sense but here's something that might,
feeling something is better than feeling nothing
negative or positive
maybe that's why i stick around you.
you don't help me clean, if anything you make even more of a mess, but that keeps the routine going.
i'll clean tomorrow. then turns into tomorrow. then tomorrow. then tomorrow. then...
