Broke my hand today,
punched a wall so hard
almost took down the place.
the walls of my mind
are already crumbling away,
this is just possessions anyways.
home is where the heart is.
what is you got no home?
it's just pressure around you.
pressure, weighing me down.
telling me how.
i should be.
or not be, see...
i don't feel weighed down
by beauty or things,
ive got the weight of my mind
this time, my life.
need more escape.
how do other people get away?
"i'm beautiful, too."
i heard someone say.
yeah, ain't we all.
beautifully
slipping
away.
