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ESM
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The Same
I cave myself in with my own walls
I dig this hole - my own shovel
I beat myself to a bloody pulp
I turn inwards to face what I am
How easy it is to cast this all aside
Each morning I awake and sit in the same fucking chair, to think the same fucking thoughts, and do the same nothing
Am I entirely to blame for this remoteness?
The same melody plays in my head
I'll never get it to end
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The compression of ambience
Brings forth a clarity
Could it be that just now
I've come to realize
That months have turned to minutes
And I am the sands of time
They never said it would be the same in the wild
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