I can’t remember the last time I fell right asleep.
I can only recall being kept up for hours by my own thoughts.
Wondering when I will grow up.
Wondering when I’ll find a girl.
One that doesnt make me want to hurl myself off of tall cliffs.
And thats a metaphor.
for the cliff is my sanity and the ground below is my frustration.
I can only see the ground coming at me over and over and over.
You see i’m not a perfect person and I’m not trying to be.
I’m a kid whose always tried to wear a heart on his sleeve.
Only to have them ripped off and thrown to the wind.
I try to be skeptical about a lot of things.
But often fall victim to the hope of a good break.
So I beat my fist into the ground.
Just to be satisfied with the fact that i’m still feeling anything at all.