Here's to the nights I felt alive.
Here's to the nights I could sleep well.
Here's to the nights I sat on my bedroom floor.
Making buildings out of Legos.
With the overhead off.
And the lava lamp on.
Not here, not now.
Where did all my happy go?
I can't look at anything dated at least three years ago without
Shedding a tear for my lost feelings.
I'm stuck in between right-brained and schizophrenic.
So I'm throwing it away.
Here's to the nights I made it okay.
Here's to the nights I had no secret life from my family.
Here's to the nights I could do something right.
Here's to the nights.
It's a little sad.
That I'm my own father.
My own mother.
My own brothers.
My own sisters.
Living is overrated.
If no one cared if I died,
I would.
I need more than this.
Lifes not this simple.
 
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