‘I’m sorry’ are words spoken more frequent than not
There’s more 10 pm comfort sessions than there should be
12 am rants about the world and how death is inevitable
How it’s really hard to breath in the middle of an anxiety attack

Bare feet on cold kitchen tile floor as laughs echo off the walls
Conspiracy theories about aliens and how the dinosaurs died
As ‘why are we like this’ falls from our lips and we can’t breathe

We talk about why the world’s a mess in normal conversation
‘Kill me’ slips from our mouths as we drink tea and it burns our throats
Cold hands start burning as they touch the mug, and our knuckles crack
We realise that we can’t fix what’s wrong with the world but we can talk about it

Complaining about the world and who’s in it after water has burnt our feet
We drink Red Bull until we can actually stay awake and function
Because the world’s a mess and we can’t fix it so maybe we will just stay numb