There’s a pressure building up inside me And sometimes i consider burring a hole through my head So that all these thoughts may find release And even though i know it may hurt There are worse things that could happen. A small outlet is better than a severed head.
I open the windows And let my room drown, With sunshine and happiness. It’s been 4 weeks now. Just walking in sludge And being eaten by madness. Depression hurts But we overcome the baddest.
I’m staring at the bathroom mirror Begging it to be more clearer But all it does is blur in fear of The reflection of my face.