Suspended
Sordid details stick me like pins,
I never asked to know.
Callousness begets regret,
and mine’s beginning to show.

What warrants these thoughts of mine,
goads me on when I should sleep?
This rhetoric wasting countless time,
am I honestly this fucking deep?

[Same me,
same antics.
Les conscious,
more frantic. ]

Sordid details stick me like pins,
keep me feeling so low.
Bemused by attempts to break free by friends,
can’t reap what I didn’t sew.

Delusions like contusions,
pressing on my brain.
My involvemеnt won’t ever solve it,
always bеtter to refrain.
[Same me,
same antics.
Les conscious,
more frantic. ]

‘Cause I’ve been journaling my nightmares,
feeling like I’m about to buckle under fatigue.
Keeping myself awake to hide from them,
postponing any reprieve.

Maybe I deliberate too much,
contemplate more than most.
Enjoying the lucid moments during early hours,
where I feel far less human than ghost.

[Same me,
same antics.
Les conscious,
more frantic. ]