Dying on an Empty Stomach

Sometimes the summer sun
Can be so unforgiving
And the shorter autumn days
Make it easy to confuse existing and living
And winter’s a far cry from
That time when not waking up anxious and alone
Was all I needed to be inspired
That was a beautiful day to be tired

I haven’t smiled since
You hit reset and erased last year
Now my mind is always racing
At top speed towards brick walls
I’m trying so hard to slow it down
By counting my breath for 30 minutes every day
And doing my very best to sit still
Now it’s a terrible life to feel ill
Yeah, it’s a terrible life to feel ill

I keep waking up halfway through that skin graft
And reading that same list of missing aircraft
Can’t seem to pick which one I wish I’d been on
Can’t seem to turn the voice in my head down
The one that’s saying that it wishes you were still around

And now my stomach’s always empty, and my days are always full
Of wondering if a ceiling light would be strong enough
And hoping that I can’t hold my breath long enough
Whether I’m swinging or submerged
Whether you have to cut me down
Or drag me out after I drown
Maybe I’m best just skipping town
Instead of holding on to something that I never had
And praying things would go from worse to bad
Now that every night’s a night to be sad