I don’t want to sleep, then I don’t want to wake up
Don’t wanna go to camp, then I don’t want to go home
I don’t want to go out, but I can’t just lay here
I’m feeling sore from head to toe
Yes, there’s a lot of blood
From this small cut...
So just wipe it up!
It’s just a papercut,
It’s not my fault
That I’m bleeding so much
That I'm bleeding
22 and I’m dying of something
Growing out of growing up
I crave sincerity but bruises fade and cuts they heal
Sometimes knowing that’s enough
When I die I know I want to be remembered
With more than just these documents of my melancholy
When all life has left it, leave my body to philosophy
Maybe they’ll take better care of it
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