I sit here for hours
Conjuring up words that I can write
And I can only hope that these
Mental monsters might put up a fight
The beast that is reality
And make it so maybe
I can get these dreams out of me.
It’s just that I can’t do this
I’m sorry, I don’t know
But I need to stop
Being a poor player in life’s show.
And I’m tired of waiting
For you to see behind the curtains
And understand why
I think nothing in my life is certain.
No, I didn’t write these lines
Wallowing in my dejection,
They were born inside a twisted mind
Only wanting to make perfection.
Striving to create
Something lasting between me and you
And I overthink like Hamlet
Except my question’s “To be and what to do?”
Or I’m Romeo, oh Romeo,
Confusing love with a crush I chase,
Being fate’s fool
Without the slightest sign of grace.
But Macbeth seems most fitting
For a person like me,
‘Cause if I was a main character,
You’d want me dead by act three.
I’m losing this battle
To the army of choices
And the world’s gone mad
But only I hear the voices.
There’s an uncertainty
That follows me in my darkest hours
Fighting me, hiding in me,
Sucking away all of my powers.
You and I aren’t together,
So free these thoughts shall roam,
Until they break out of my mouth
And make my mistake their home.
It was not you who caused my mind
To inflict this constant pain
It was me who put the figurative bullet
Through the literal hole in my brain.