The sun pokes through these vacant clouds while the weight of the world pulls my shoulders down. I always swore I'd make my parents proud, but somehow I think I forgot about myself. I've had a tendency since sixteen to ruin things held close to me. The snow falls fast and coats the street, as well as my fondest memories. I've learned how to manage being alone, but the way I think has changed. On this long drive home I count the days and the ways that my life has been rearranged. Surrounded by faces I never knew, I'm better off in this empty room. Close the door, push my pride aside, I'm more inclined to hide than to have you by my side. The whole world is spinning 'round me, I'm nothing out of the ordinary. The whole world will spin without me, I am entirely temporary. I tend to write my endings before my beginnings, 'cause that's the only way that's fitting. It feels good to vent, my therapy and these words go hand in hand. I'm so sick of changing and saying I'm sorry for things that I never did in the first place. So go home and face this, I'm tired and wasted from digging my own grave. Streetlights fail to illuminate my past, so I can't see my own way out. Will I make it out of this? Coffee steams on the desk beside me. Maybe I'll land on my own two feet. We'll see. Will I ever learn how to fix me?
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