I feel like I'm trapped, keep turning and turning.
Can I get off? Please,
my stomach is churning.
I feel so sick- no, numb- these days it's hard to tell.
All I know is that yesterday I fell, I did so today and last week too, into this void I keep meeting.
Things just keep on repeating,
I don't know who I am anymore,
a stranger to myself, head stranded amongst permanent war.
I'm stuck at the fair, on this carousel of life, but this doesn't feel like living, more like survival.
Both the reaper and future seem to demand my arrival.
The fairground lights, I used to love,
blind me now, in my fragile state, all it will take is a simple shove:
for me to shatter and to break.
It feels like I'm stuck in an infinite nightmare, pleading to wake:
where the candyfloss is bittersweet,
tainted by the memories of monsters I'm yet to beat.
Can I get off now, please?
It was fine at first, but now I miss being able to feel,
the colours, the trees:
replaced with shadows and greys,
I'm not sure how much longer I'll last: I'm losing my mind, stuck in this maze.
Spinning too fast to see the world, the one that used to bring me bliss and peace,
greeted now only by a blur, a smudged painting of better days, a broken masterpiece.
I’m stuck in a cycle and I can’t break out:
and I'm tired, tired of having no-one hear me shout.