all out of faith.
revolving around my little room is a brainful of thoughts.
they are colliding and they refuse to stop.
Everything has become to intricate for me to try getting so help.
The disease is spreading, I need to focus off myself.
Crawling farther into my bedroom,
staying longer as it is.
The chains refuse to break.
While Im sitting here in pain.
You can see it in my eyes.
Im confusing myself.
The crime, ive already commited.
Already turned myself in,
waiting in my bedroom for life to end.
not my best...im having writer's block.