you wanna know a secret? i don’t know what i’m supposed to write anymore

‘cause i don’t have answers

i don’t even have the questions

and i think i don’t work hard enough

i think i work too much

spinning through the days

in a dizzy blur of wicked tree-branches

and jagged words, cutting up my tongue

wrap it up in sherpa fleece lining

and tuck it under the bed, where it’ll never see the sun

you wanna know a secret? i am a hypocrite

i am lying through my teeth

hanging on by a thread from the telephone wire

as the flames grow higher

you wanna know a secret? i am bloody

and used-up, and this art i’ve made will never sell

until it sells too much

until they’re looking, they’re all looking

and my name doesn’t feel like my own

you wanna know a secret? i don’t know

if i’ve got it; that bird in my palms

’cause i’ve strangled it out

i’ve spent whole evenings worshipping the light on my phone

i failed, i failed, i failed

a million times over, i end up alone

’cause the people i love, they are leaving me behind

the moonlight streams in through my window, the stars are going blind

so in high-pitched piano notes

hold my heavy hand in yours

and walk me all the way home

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It’s been a weird year/decade/week, and to be honest, I’ve been feeling really burned out. (Yes, I realize the irony in posting this online, but here we are.)