Diagnosis (Explicit)

Sometimes I have absolutely ****ing nothing new to say

Arrange my face in concentration

To not give myself away

To escape what’s in my head I default to the little death

That just made it worse instead

Cus now I’m late, and still not dressed

Waiting for the day to dawn where I fit the suit I put on

I’ll make everybody laugh

Admire my wit - and my ass

Get this stabbing in my chest

Like my lungs rather not find breath

When I think about all the steps

I’ve got to climb before I’ll rest

I think everything I do

mostly boils down to craving you

To love me till I’m finally full

But what I need won’t come from you

No one likes to be morose

Your art is not a diagnosis

Keep my enemies the closest

Got myself locked in full focus

Promised that I’d find a new muse

Cus the ‘sad’ thing’s overused

But my whole ‘shtick’ shticks to the truth

And I’m so good at counting bruises

Reading poetry to try and

Find creative ways to hide

I’ve said the same thing my whole life

I’m always scared, but not to die

I HAVE NOTHING IN MY BRAAAAIN

I HAVE NOTHING IN MY BRAIN

I HAVE NOTHING IN MY BRAIN

I HAVE NOTHING IN MY BRAAAAAAIN