Back to back

Talking isn't working let's try out therapy, try explain to my family before they yell at me. How can I give hope when I’m left so hopeless, how can you expect me to smoke less? I’m not blaming those around me no not at all, how can I blame the tragedies around me for the reason I fall. It's me and only me to blame, frankly l’ve just gone insane. I see the way loved ones look down on me and how this lost feeling surrounds me, like there’s this bubble of problems around me. If you're still breathing you're the lucky one, because all my feelings are bloody gone, lost away in a bloody song, signing lyrics that are bloody wrong. Maybe I've said enough or maybe ever too much. Maybe this was never the answer to your question or love. But this is all my heart can scribe, all the ways to tell you that sadly I’m not always alright. And if you ask me I'll ask you too, you ask about me but never ask about you. I'll tell you all is good and life is a journey I’m taking, but miss out the details like every five minutes l’m breaking. The point is really that there’s no point at all, metaphor for life and the worries that call, that they exist and we search but we can’t find them, and as soon as you do, we learn to hide them.

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