My Mind is a Bottle Rocket Pt. 2
Mental health is waning and whining like a moon about to explode.
Rot waxes over me, and thrusts me half past dead.
Strapped to a rocket, target locked and approaching.
You said "Give up!" but had no success.
Optimism slowly but angrily turning into a passion for self-destruction.
Losing my mind, one night at a time
Darken pitch black spots around my eyes
Mark them with an X.
The glass that's eternally empty has now shattered all over the ground.
At least I'm still alive, and always will be.
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