Escapism Is A Dying Art by Accept The Change
My room’s a mess. I’m coughing up cobwebs and the sheets haven’t been refreshed since you’ve been here last month. There’s bottled up waste stuffed in all four corners and I haven’t washed myself for days. Mother, I’m in a worse state than my pig pen back home. I’m overslept, underfed, a total wreck and the god-damn meds are taking too long, I am inhabitable she says but please don’t lock me away. My head’s a mess. I’m stuck in the basement dug deep in a rat’s nest while all my roommates have moved out. I am growing insane. I’ve grown so out of touch with myself I feel uncomfortable when someone knows my name. You’ll be okay. I gave my wallet to the kneeling man down the street ‘cause the only thing I really need is a breath of fresh air. Mother, I’m even worse than I’ve been before but tonight I promise I’m coming home. I’m overdosing on polluted fumes and still you give me hope. I’ve been outside, tongue-tied, too tired, tied in barbed wire for far too long. I never thought that I’d tell you about this but I am just another fucked up kid on a drug prescription list. Here’s to all the kids with a smile on their face singing songs about suicidal days. Strike a chord if you’re feeling bored and you’ll do fine. Consider yourself lucky you’ve never died. You wouldn’t know what’s it like to lose your hope, to lose your mind, to lose your soul, to lose it all. Every nameless boy, every hate filled girl on the endless list. They wouldn’t know what’s it like. You have never died.