Genre: Mental Anguish/Melancholy
Covers and acoustic versions,
Fresh and scarred perspectives,
Through eyes adjusting to darkness.
The darkness of the room,
Complements the darkness of the mind.
The darkness of the heart co-exists,
Past yet Within every second boom of this vessel of, supposed love,
At 0 hundred hours,
I’m behind the scenes.
At 1 hundred hours,
I’m assessing decisions.
At 2 hundred hours,
I’m falling to pieces,
Like a mismatched puzzle that is ever so deceiving it’s evil.
At 3 hundred hours,
I’m in thought, in nostalgia, in regret –
All accompanied by repressed thoughts, feelings and emotions.
At 4 hundred hours,
I’m self-loathing –
I’m livid, creating clouds of a forthcoming storm that never quite forms.
At 5 hundred hours,
I’m comparing my burdens to others,
Finding loopholes to my shit,
Convincing myself my sisters and brothers have it worse…
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