I would say, at least being in my current wake

That there is nothing better, than simply, taking a simple break 

The pressure of the world is my current compressor 

And the dirty clothes are still unorganized, sitting on my dresser 


Sometimes, I think I just need to take a step back and get a little bit of air

When I try to tell people that I’m not doing too great, it doesn’t seem like they really care 

I think i’d be okay if I could have just a little while to think about things

But everytime I sit down to take a break, my doorbell rings


I think I’m gonna be okay, I really really do

It’s just that now-a-days, I’m feeling kinda blue

When I finally feel like I can talk about it, it feels like my tongue gets knotted and tied

And i’ve tried to pick myself up, trust me i’ve tried 


There is a dull tint on the lenses that i’m looking through 

 andI wish I could clean my glasses, but I can't really figure out how to 

If only I could find the motivation to put away all my clothes 

They are starting to pile up, but I guess that’s just the way life goes

This poem is about: 


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