And I wake up hating dreams, hating life. And I thought to myself, this just isn't my day.
Those were the words of everyday. And maybe,
this isn't my life, and I hate it inside out.
I want my depression to slowly consume me, but I'm not sure why.
Demotivation have been there all the way.
Disappointments to misjudgements.
Explosive confetti type of love to explosive dynamite that destroys everything.
Oh my heart, where art thou?
Baby pot is what I wish to hear again.
Conscious mind tells me that all I wish now is nothing but fantasyland.
What holds true I do not know
But this aching heart I once call it mine?
Is nothing but an empty land.
-maine
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