It’s to cluttered
Open the window to my soul
Let me be heard
Detox the negativity that surrounds me
Keeping me imprisoned in my own perception of life
Drowning me in grief
This poor soul is shattered
Making it impossible to fix
Somebody please open the **** window
My soul is crying for help
Air supply is frail
Making it hard to breathe
Maybe a little laughter is what i need
A smile that spreads like sea
Let the light seep through the crevices
Breaking me free

Dying is a drag,
but I'd take it any day over being alive,
especially on wednesdays.
Life ***** on wednesdays.
Caught nowhere
between here and there,
you stumble,
you doubt if you're going back or forward,
whether you die or you are born;
but yet,
time keeps moving
and you can't fall behind.
Time keeps moving
between birth and death,
one way only,
no refounds.