(no subject)

[_alie]

I dreamt of a fever,
one that would cure me of this cold, winter set heart,
with heat to melt these frozen tears and burned with reasons
as to carry on.
Into these twisted months I plunge without a light to follow,
but I swear that I would follow anything,
if it would just get me out of here.
And so you get six months to adapt.
And then you get two more to leave town.
And in the event that we do adapt we still might not want you around.
And I fell for the promise of a life with a purpose,
but I know that that is impossible now.
And so I drink to stay warm,
and to kill selected memories,
because I just can't think anymore about that or about her tonight.
And I give myself three days to feel better,
or else I swear I am driving off a fucking cliff,
because if I can't make myself feel better,
then how can I expect anyone else to give a shit?
And I scream for the sunlight or a car to take me anywhere,
just get me past this dead and eternal snow.
Because I swear that I am dying, slowly but it's happening
so if there is a perfect spring that's waiting somewhere...
just take me there and lie to me and say it's going to be alright.
It's going to be alright, yeah you worry too much kid,
it's going to be alright.