banned from pleasant dreams and a good night sleep
life worries over in the backseat
sprained ankles keeping me grounded on this earth
wished one too many times to leave
but kept on walking
choked up words and battered hands
from pounding on my closet door
but my ego's more bruised than them
hoarse voice but haven't even whispered a word
my brain hurts from the clutter
i want to scoop it out and wash it off
drown my stomach with water to see if i can cough it up
i think it's here to stay though
the butterflies turned into crows
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