MOC NAD TÍM PŘEMÝŠLÍŠ [YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT IT WAY TOO MUCH]

The point of existing

When my feet hurt ill take the rock out of my shoe.
Ill swim to the top when i start to drown.
Improve my health when once again i catch the flu and my temperature goes up and down.

Ive always been too sensitive,
too easy to infect.
Too interested in peoples feelings or the way i act.

Dont look and dont cry, dont breathe and dont you dare die.
If u manage to stay one more day you will fly...
Is that a promise?
A promise for a life that i wont miss?

Ill talk to someone when my feelings are too much to bare.
Ill explain when i know whats happening in my head.
When all i can do is sit and stare.
Ill make myself get up and brush my hair,
messy from all that lying in my bed and doing nothing.

Just existing feeling like a black hole,
without anything making me whole.
Im a mole in an empty closet,
a world where noone wants to look at the sunset and music that doesnt make people dance.

Take a good look or maybe youd prefer a glance, because it will be your last one before i dissapear in to the distance.

And never come back.