Perception is reality.
I've ran myself into a rut
I'd rather die than bloom where I've been planted
My sight is clouded by visions of myself drowning
repeatedly in a bottomless swamp of misery
and self-loathing.
Misery, self-loathing
There will be no miracles here.
Yet another day, 24 closer to death
I can't bear to open my eyes, let alone look ahead.
You can't see what I see, so you can't understand
how I think.
My perception is bleak.
I'm a dead plant, stop watering me