Angst

It's cliche, emotional bullshit.

Too many thoughts and cigarette smoke,

It's suffocating and I can't remember which door I left open.

Spiraling, twisting, tossing, turning...

Maybe someday I'll remember which way is up.

Too many people with painted friendly faces,

It's too hard to know which are real.

I'm tired, too tired, and I don't know what I'm doing here.

Maybe someday I'll remember why I picked you.
T
oo many maybes to fill a day.

It's impossible to get excited about anything.

Nothing definite and nothing gained.

Maybe someday I'll remember why I cared.

Too many you's to ever think about me.

It's your world and I'm just a guest here.

Shadow creeping behind you.

Maybe someday I'll remember why I was never important