Depression
The rest of my life could be.
Like getting a package in the mail.
It’s shoes and they fit perfectly but I don’t care.
The rest of my life could be.
Like watching TV.
I get a text, I don’t get those much.
Someone could have died.
I prefer to watch my show.
The series ended, but I’m still chasing it.
The rest of my life could be.
Like turning on a fan.
As if to blow out a fire.
But it just moved the fire into the endless hills and valleys.
The rest of my life could be.
Worse.
Yeah, it could be.
I wake up and I’m 27.
Everyday, I’m 27.
Then I’ll be 28.
And I don’t care about that either.
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