When did conversation become something I dread
Heavy, heavy thoughts crowd the spaces in my head
They hold me down as I fight for sleep in my bed
The whites of my eyes now permanently shaded red
I’ve found little comfort in not being alone
It hasn’t changed my own self-directed condescending tone
Often times it merely seems an emotional slump
At others it’s clear that my heart is deeply sunk
You don’t have to tell me, I know that I am wrong
Relief is temporary though it comes on so strong
I’ve become disgusted by my own self pity
I guess I could just be like everyone else and blame this fucking city
Uncertainty of what lies ahead remains ever daunting
My hopes and desires, it is constantly haunting
Wasting opportunity in vicious philosophy
Ultimately I find no peace, no mental therapy
I must invest my time in what’s real to me
Things to be loved, things I can see
Do not sympathize, do not criticize
I know it is my fault
But I won’t let it be my demise
There’s too much convincing me otherwise
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