Times like this when I can’t find the rights words.
Times like this when I find myself crying.
As I have no way to express.
But this pencil twirling in my hand.
Sometimes I’ll make art, and proudly show it.
Sometimes I’ll make shit, and quickly destroy it.
With either I find they both seem to end in the same way.
With a simple message, strewed through long and tedious words.
That could be said much simpler, and probably has.
But still I say it, for it’s all I have.