I'm sorry i am sick.
I will try to get better,
For you.
I caught a cold,
Of other people's pain.
And it's making me sick to my stomach because of people's suffering.
I went to the doctor's,
And with their soul's frozen in their eyes,
Hands cold on my forehead as they look my temperature.
They told me to take some antibiotics and ill feel better.
But i looked back at then with my heart barely taking a beat,
And told them i needed more then just that.
Because when I think,
I need to throw up.
And when i breathe,
i choke.
And when i open my eyes,
I sleep.
Because then there's no line in between reality and my dreams anymore.
And i dont know if that's good or bad.
Because it either means all my nightmares are real.
Or that all my dreams came true.
I know im leaning but the doctors dont understand.
So I left and walked down the street with my mind numbed from the 10 different drugs.
And wished that i didnt need them.
