(it's like taking a deep breath inside of a vacuum)

you have to practice your screaming
if nothing comes in nothing can come out
there's no release in these small choking sounds
this monotone drone
this quiet howl

you have to let off the pressure
maybe you need to punch a mirror or something?
i know it's not really up your alley
but the sight of blood is just sooo dramatic


you have to work on your phrasing
you use so many metaphors
i don't really know what you're saying
get your story straight
no, no-one really needs
more than a syllable when asking you how you've been

you have to perfect your pronouns
make sense of all of this "you" and "i" and "yours" and "mine"
maybe let's leave the confessional lyrics
to the people with nothing to hide?


it's so cute when you convince yourself
you are capable of change
take a minute, write a list of your wishes
watch the letters all rearrange

you have to
ease yourself into the routine, the little things
every day make your coffee take your pills and shave
weeks and months, peaks and troughs
the steady spiraling down
ever impatiently waiting for the flatline


in due time
my mind may find
a way to make
the best of this
or else,
instead


it doesn't matter what you call it, it's still the same.
or what you call yourself - no, a name helps nothing.
It doesn't matter if you stay home or leave,
you will always feel alone on a new year's eve.
and you can cry your eyes out,
and you can write a sad song,
and you can lie on the floor and wait for death to collect,
and you can force your next breath until you think this will end,
but it won't ever stop.
but it won't ever stop.
but it won't ever stop.
but it will never ever--