holding it all inside,
is like concealing a deadly weapon.
pure suicide.
how have I come to this?
Theres so many things, so little time.
it never ends, so theres no where to start.
I am unhinged.
Find a niche for me to recline in.
I dream of sleep in the coldest hour of night.
Tossing and Turning in the anxiety of my own mind.
Blanketed and marinating in the bullshit of my past.
i just keep telling myself, "this is only temporary."
but damn if evanescent aint EVER-lasting.
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