So what does it mean,
When you live and die by the thoughts of others,
Where you’re too tired,
Too tired to get out of your own way,
And a cup of coffee,
A slow song,
And a good book no longer satiate your inner hunger?
You can’t look anyone in the eye,
Let alone justify yourself to the mirror,
And like the ghost you treat me as,
I don’t eat,
I barely sleep,
And the coffee only fuels the fire for so long,
As your eyes pass right through me.
A world of constant need for attention,
And a cavern in my chest,
The emptiness carries an eerie silence,
Caused by neglect,
Broken only by a lonely, lonely echo within,
As the now dreaded thum of my heart,
Thuds away in the hollowed black,
The consequence of an addict without his fix.