We are the damaged
Perfection was lost in the beginning
An imperfect race, we are
We are the end
A promise made centuries ago that will never be fulfilled
Only evidence shown is this broken world we call home
Too crowded, too claustrophobic
Surrounded with so much nonsense
Too much bullshit
My head has no space for anxious thoughts
No time or place for them to sit and fester
That empty space I once had inside my head is now so f*cking crowded
All I see is demons around me
They surround me, they observe me
Watching every move and breath I take