Worn
They -- fall
Slowing down sight
I draw closer and closer
Then --
Flutter to stay awake and realize I'm not ready for this
I'm not yet able to enter that dark place of meditation
-- But
I feel it coming more swiftly
My heavy eyes falling
With every
Last shutter
Closer
Closer
No -- yes
Sleep.

I'm too old now to die young
But not old enough to get rid of my self doubt
I have many years on my record
But if I got arrested, would you still bail me out?

I'm too old now to die young
Too young to have these tragic thoughts
I have many years on my record
But I'm getting tired of walking around with a heavy heart

I'm too old now to die young
But not old enough to think that every tear's been shed
I have many years on my record
I wish I didn't feel like all those years were wasted

I'm too old now to die young
But not old enough to get rid of my self doubt
I have many years on my record
But if I got arrested, would you still bail me out?

your love sits on my chest like an overweight elephant,
imagine all that weight plus the obesity of your neglect,
crushing my heart that was once so delicate...
breaking the whole foundation of my chest.
i try to push back but my arms snap under the pressure,
i try not to love you so the weight might lessen.
but i never seemed to be able to lift you and your darkness.
because of you it takes much more pain for me to be broken hearted.
it may sound better, like nothing phases me as much..
but if pain and more pain affects me like nothing,
then how will i ever be strong enough to build myself,
how will i ever stop falling and finally get up...
i wish that you'd just get off me i wish you'd just roll over.
instead it seems you keep eating and the disease is moving closer.
instead of affecting you it drops right down to me,
my heart explodes and bleeds and you finally get up to leave.

I used to be that happy little girl who danced trough the streets, smiled at everyone she met.
Now I am that depressed boy who locks himself up in his room, never comming out, because people might notice his *****.
Oh, the difference between this two.
But both are part of me and my past.
Who will I tomorrow be?

is not just mental,
but physical;
each side of the brain droops,
slowly sinking downward
pouring a lack of tears into either eye
which, when they fall,
drag down both corners of the mouth
their weight reflective upon every *****,
every limb
and all the pieces that once made up a person,
now,
too heavy

i feel so
heavy

every thought
is another
weight
on my shoulders

it is only a
matter
of time

before i am
pushed
down
into the
darkness

I've been given more clarity
with the heavy rains of life
than I have with days of
never ending sunshine,
some days I prefer the rain,
but most,
I long for the naive sunshine