the question of life

i wonder why i feel the way i feel inside,

it’s like i suppress so much,

it’s nearly impossible for me to cry,

and i think ,

in exchange for suppression,

i was given an incredible amount,

of internal depression.

some days ,

it’s not really there,

but others ,

it seems like that’s all that’s in there.

i cope by telling myself ,

as an artist i have to suffer,

but is this really the case ?

mad at the world for things i put in place,

i feel like it’s close,

and if it is ,

this is the only thing i left,

as a trace.

xtc

sad picture to paint,

the love of my life left a picture on the sink,

not the picture you think,

visualize red ink ,

and a substance that taste like zinc.

i’m planted in the blood bath,

as the cherries start to blossom,

i raise the white flag,

this bathroom is beginning to look like gotham.

xtc

no energy to keep me alive,

i function off of minimal sleep,

so you can imagine how i feel inside,

tired and losing hope,

watching my mental health decline.

stuck in a unwanted position

when all i want to do is design,

a quiet, keep to himself kid,

nobody would know.

but the truth is,

i’m suffering to go,

leave it all behind,

tired of standing,

like a no good spine.

xtc

cup my hands to feed you,

no silver spoon for fingers,

so i’m confused as to why the bite lingers,

but i suppose it’s something only seen from my point of view,

i guess i’m expectant for an apology that’s long overdue,

xtc

healing trauma i never dealt with ,

why come back from the past ?

just to haunt me ?

i been in these situations before ,

evade from love ,

cus it was never experienced correctly,

i’m forgiving ,

so it’s not a shot at you directly ,

but the feeling of abandonment,

seems to dissect me ,

but i’m convinced,

i’m fine all alone,

i just need to be reminded ,

who sits with the king ?

if it’s just him in the throne ?

xtc