This is what living like this does

my countdown is always off, and those little red numbers tick by like cold molasses but i can see my horizon, and that is getting too close too quickly i'm living with the sweetest dream killer you've ever met. the " you are pathetic "s are wrapped in discount cotton, and that bless-your heart tone makes me feel naive you're right, i'm not ready or worth enough. i'm hoping that this rubber to road thing works out, cause i can really see this blowing up in our faces. like, bad. maybe we'll have night, the sun always sucks the fun out of everything. call me Peter Pan, but can we be nine years old again? just for one week? I'll pray for you all, and this because this sinking guilty feeling is the only thing that can make me cry so(ul) raw and pathetic it's not my fault it's just day by day from this point out recount