Swaying on the broken wind.
I feel like I'm never content.
What to say, what to make, and why?
What to do with my worthless life?
Never at rest, never complete.
I feel like I'll never succeed.
How are you? How is your life?
Simple words, heavy meaning.
You're fine, you and your words.
Not perfectly in tact, but solid and whole.
I'm dead. I'm as good as it.
I'm not okay. Stop asking.
Be brought up to fame
and feel your heart shatter,.
See if you'll be okay.
