searching for a temporary fixation
that could fix your life,
you don't lack in the dedication department,
but your focus is scattered
and your effort's half-hearted.
and you want to get out of here so badly,
stuck in a loop of endless quotations,
but your mind's been underperforming lately,
sending out "save the date" invitations
to a preemptive memorial service.
that grave's been waiting around for a purpose
ever since the first final warning.
you're not stalling, just weighing your options,
looking convincing in that little black lie.
maybe calling it quits is your calling,
doubling down on the hibernation mode,
half-awake around half past five,
searching for a temporary fixation
that could fix your life.

placing bets on a misplaced hope,
filling lungs with denial,
watching it turn into smoke.
it's a poisonous kind of co-dependency,
drowning out the smell of decay
by lighting scented candles.

you can't stop it from spreading further
from your chest to your throat,
so you increase the dosage.
if you go, you'll go on a high note,
filling lungs with denial,
watching it turn to smoke.

they took the light of your soul
and then put it out.
they said that it wasn't on purpose,
but you are the one
who's fading with every night,
the shadows are creeping inside,
it's harder to tell the time
when there's no sun in sight.

they said you don't have much to offer,
an empty vessel for their god.
they stole the light of your soul
just so they could put it out.

call me when it's over,
i'd rather not watch it all from the start.
rewind to the credits,
make sure to read every single name out loud.

keep the tape rolling,
there might be a hidden message or two.
my mind is unstable,
but the state of it's got nothing to do with you.

so call me when it's over,
i've seen it a million times inside my head.
rewind to the credits,
read the names and remember that most of them are dead.

those who seek flame see fires everywhere,
one's lifebuoy's but an anchor to the sinking.
where there's a fear of dark, there's fear of blinking,
for even momentary blindness makes you lose the way.

so many things were tempered with to always keep us scared,
on edge and waiting for the blade to drop when we're not thinking.
one's lifebuoy's but an anchor to the sinking,
those who seek flame see fires everywhere.

it gets better with time.
it gets easier to interrupt the chain reaction,
to stop following down the rabbit hole
of every first subconscious reaction
that triggers a well-tried response.
and if you don't give up on trying
the hope might just carry you through
and across the finish line.
what you have been suffering from
doesn't define you,
but it does get better with time.

it's not the kind of place
one wishes to return to,
its welcoming embrace
is made to suffocate.
i wish i could stray from
the path that leads me to it,
but it took everything,
it even claimed my name.
and now i've grown to hate it,
the sound of being seen;
shame makes a perfect rope
to hang my self-esteem.
the memories come in pairs,
but always black and white;
i know that place's a trap,
yet i still crawl inside.
now there is all this pain
preventing my escape,
it whispers "welcome back,
it's time to suffocate."