I feel so devoid of everything these days,
Love doesn’t make sense
And I stay up late wanting to
Overdose on lack of sleep and
The hell I return to every day
Is the one within my mind.
Existential crises from 3 to 4
On the way up the stairs where I smile
And nod and
Say I’m fine when I don’t even remember who I am
Or who I want to be.
I should save wasted time
And stop smiling
And let myself fall until I die
Until the fake bubbles bubble no longer
Until the drink has been drunk
And I am also,
Until there is nothing left to save
But a carcass to preserve underground.