Phenomena

Phenomena



Head is sick

Cloudy with thoughts

Thoughts of jumping

Thoughts of who you really are

Who you are leaving behind?

Envious thoughts of better times.



You make my body ache, and my chest burn

I feel weak and run down, guess now it’s my turn.

I’ll take my stand on stage for you to enjoy

In your bed you will lay, sick with emotion



Care to share your callous world?

You’re disheveled, a mess.

What would you do if I turned and left?

All of your malicious games, petty things you do

Well here for once, I conclude I am foolish

For ever wanting you.