...for everything
Night fell on me writing this
And I ran out of paper
So I crossed the name out
At the top of the page
Not sure why I'm even writing this
But I guess it feels right
It sort of feels like I have to
Like an exorcism
I guess that makes me sound crazy
But that's alright
Lately I feel like I might be
Not that I've heard any voices or anything
Just like that everyday kind
Where you forget things you shouldn't
And you think too much about d**h
Maybe you know what I'm talking about?
Or maybe you would have known?
Or had known? Is it once knew?
I don't know what tense to use
I know I never used to feel like this
I used to never think of d**h or hear voices
I used to feel like everything was perfectly in order
A normal life, but I guess then came a departure
That I know you understand
Or would've understood
I guess things changed after that
And I'm mostly scared now
But it's there in the stories
Or whatever they are
You can see it
Anybody could, if they could look
I wrote some notes in the
Margins explaining it
The rest is in between lines
Or in the fine print
First, the feeling of abandonment
Then trying to cope
Then d**h and hope and the thing itself
Waiting for me
It's all there in the pages
Ahead of here
It's there, waiting for you
Or for me; I'm not sure
The whole story
For everything
For everything