Clear my head, if i can’t write it i can’t say it

Too often i regret the way i fly right off the chains

I don't know a fucking thing

I just get told that i’m the best
 and let it go right to my head up to the point that I can’t clear it

Note to self: stop scrolling mindless shit

Stop tapping at your pockets frantically when you can’t feel it

You’re failing at taking control of what you feel and do

You promised back before that you would quit that which consumed

I don’t even view the scenery when driving during sunset

I could care less of the animals we drive past

I’m mindless, I’m spineless

I’m dying from anxiety

I find existence hopeless, that’s why i’m always trying to leave

But i am trying to be exactly who you see me as

And when i gaze upon the world i don’t see faces gazing back

But it ain’t often i unlock my eyes from the screen

And when I do, they immediately move to my queen

I’m a fiend for the fire hearted fists

Quarter life crisis

Signs of the end

I am like dirt, just a little more formed

Cyanide hurts, but that’s kind of my norm

Time of my life, just the eye of my storm

I am like mike, always hanging from a corner of the round rim called emotional disorders

Sort of seems like quiet nights might be the bane of my existence

And i am not here for your business, just listen:

Most of my friends don’t even know me by my real name

Just a photo on a website and a tendency to share memes that correlate with how they think and speak like shit to strangers

But i am no savior, and i need a break too