: About Me

I wake up in the morning leaving home The sky a smear of dirty latte foam On the bleak horizon, and I'm already crying And I wonder about the different degrees of dying. I get to the office with shards of my heart Gathering myself together so I won't break apart Through the endless day, all the while I'm trying To control what I know is just another degree of dying. Strange how people look but no one really sees Busy, focused, trancelike - a bunch of walking zombies Stuffing emotions, hiding tears, muffling sighing We disguise each of our various degrees of dying. If we stop, we'd hurt... ...