Everything feels wrong.
When you notice the sound that the air makes And how round the sky is, fitting perfectly on top of our fish bowl of An atmosphere we swim on and float on and think on and breathe on. And nothing and everything makes sense When you realize your brain is just a dense formation of tiny living things. It’s like your mind is as solid as a bird’s wings But as abstract and surreal as nameless other things. And your breath is moving up to speed. And your heart pumps so fast, like it’s trying to scream But your head won’t allow it. Society says it’s wrong and you say it doesn’t matter But you’re trapped in a song thats been playing for hours. Repeating and repeating for days on end And you wish it would stop. Please, please, let it end. I think that I’m dying and no one believes me. I can’t breathe anymore and no one can see me. What have I done to deserve such despair? These hands won’t stop shaking and pulling my hair. Why does nobody care That the air isn’t still And my lungs and my heart move by their own will? How can we explain this strange place where we live? Heart is slowing now. Something’s gotta give.
I just need to sleep. I’ll feel better tomorrow. Until next time, Anxiety. It’s your turn now, Sorrow.