When the melody goes mute...

But im just here. Im swallowing myself, in this stagnant pool of sadness. Theres a way out. I know the way. But I just sit here, bubbling in grief. Don’t judge me cause I write like I need a jar of anti-deppresants.. im just low. This is how I take it out. If I could, id puke till my guts swelled to the size of texas, just to get this out of my system. But all I do is write graphic fammy verse! How gay is that? Thing is.. I don’t even care. I WANT to write it. I can get up. I can do something. I should. It’s the only sensible thing. But my stupid, stubborn wannabe self righteous self just ignores that voice that permits light into this grey stench. Immaturity. I hate to say that it pretty much defines me. What if I just let go and do something crazy? Wait. I already did. Does that mean im ‘allowed’ to not give a damn about anything and simply roll around on a bed of unaccepted self pleasurising rebellious deeds? Heck, no. But iv to put up the face. And swim against the current to reach where I actually want to be although just drowning feels so much easier.