Counting hours
I feel weak, I feel broken
I feel like my heart has been ripped open
Counting hours is all I do
I just need to make it through
Can't say how I really feel
When I think about it, it makes me ill
So many words wanting to come out
My head can't work out what it's all about
There's something strange about being manic
Always in a state of panic
Teeth grinding, body tangled
My brain feels like it's being strangled
Feel resentful, don't know why
Feel like I'm waiting to die
No relief, nothing works
How do I lift this curse?
No sleep, doesn't matter
It just adds and makes me madder
Losing grip of reality
I'm at one with my mortality
Waiting for this all to end
Is driving me round the bend
Another poem full of gloom
Hopefully I'll be dead soon
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