I don’t understand what’s going on Nothing has changed I’m wracking my brain But maybe that’s the problem I’m wracking my brain To the point of obliteration It takes all the weight And it just sits. I’m wracking my brain Which is why it’s hard to focus Why I can’t concentrate My blood lacks the red it needs As my brain is wracked and bleeds So in return everything shakes. It shakes. So I let go of the wracking I make peace for myself But in return I’ve started a war With my
Do you ever feel like you were born with something A darkness maybe An inescapable breath of sorrow Of melancholy that lingers Its stench pulls you deep into despair Looking for a light as it surrounds you And pulls you down Over And over And over again. What do you do when you’re tired? When your body aches as you begin to dissociate When all the versions of yourself from your past are whispering in your ear “Draw blood” they say Oh the comfort and confusion that co
I’m fine sitting alone. Don’t invite me over to talk with you out of pity. If I wanted to be with people, I’d insert myself into a conversation about the chemistry test or how spring break was with a gathering of people who’s interconnected past defines their friendship. Mine would too. If I wanted to participate in the societal practice of small talk with groups of people who are by default on the right track to become active citizens of this world, I would. As they prepare
