At what point during it all do you just stop feeling?
Because your soul is claustrophobic when it used to have no ceilings
Emotions extremely oscillating and regularly reeling
Until they freeze in place, solidifying and congealing
At what point do you stop reaching for life through the bars of your confines?
And stop trying to decipher the meanings between the scribbles of life’s lines?
When scaling the mountains of your goals merely seem like frivolous climbs
And your pursuit of happiness is always riddled with blank road signs
At what point is it enough? At what point is it too much?
At what point do you stop looking for the F to give a fuck?
So when people offer help and you say “help me with what?
Because nothing even matters until your time is all the way up”
This cycle is too exhausting. Every day is more of the same
Spinning your consciousness until you’re completely dizzy and insane
Warping your perception and washing your brain
Making reality lose the meaning of the “real” in its name
Categories: Rodney Fenner