The truth is I hate my own guts so you won't have to
So much so, that I can't recognize love or the lack of it
I've packed this suitcase a thousand times
Said aloud "I'll never look back"
But end up sitting on my bed just staring at it
I've cried alone more times than I'd like to admit
But I've been too proud to tell you
I'm losing it
Anxiety ridden guilt stricken
The weights of things
It's sinking in
It's like an awful movie I've seen a hundred times and I know the end
And everything falls apart
But I'm collecting the pieces
I found a little bit of hope shoved between
the seats In the back of the van
And I'm content with knowing exactly where I am
I've seen hell It's a worn out reclining chair
And I've dreamt of heaven
It's anywhere but here
Add Comment