my patience is imploding, my eyes are rolling, as my heads exploding. you hate your life for no reason, when my mind and heart, are settling for treason. I've been thinking about my own death, forced or natural, the joy of taking my last breath. The mask I wear; everyone thinks I'm ecstatic. the truth is I'm settling for the worst, stuff my emotions in this attic. this attic is not for storage, it holds an emotional stir id rather go insane shaking myself, leaving myself to see a blur. so fuck all the needs and 'obligations', i don't need this, or any of your 'real life situations'. so squeeze the trigger, rest the barrel on my tongue. id rather you clean a mess, then to find my body hung.