It’s Not Getting Worse But

by Noise Pollution

Guess it’s been real
how do you feel?
and don’t you lie to me
The world it owes
me for my woes
and for my tragedies

lest the stabbing pain
I numb myself to
becomes but a symptom
of the time I felt you
swimming through my stomach
full of acid
lest the scars I
cover up become just
scars I cover up
and not a currency of pain
that I would cash in

It feels so wrong
to have been wronged before
It’s been so long
since I’ve felt longed for
If only gaping wounds
were a sign of good things to come soon
But what reason would I have
then to write songs for?

I guess I don’t feel so good.
I wonder if I ever should.
I guess that I will go.

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