i try to focus as hard as i can as i try to walk a straight line
sweat rolls down my pale face as my vision and focus continue to decline
my hands shake as they reach for the walls, and it is always out of my reach
i try talking myself through this, but i can not comprehend my distorted speech
my red, swollen eyes look up to the light and its bright flash blinds me
then i fall to the ground, staring into my thoughts; my eyes are closed but i can see
everything was so clear then, before i had succumbed to the pressures around me
i walked that straight line and out the door, and i was as free as can be
my hands were snug in the safety of my pockets and my eyes stared at the stars
but that was long ago, and thinking about it always felt a little bizarre
i was sick of who i had become, and felt like i needed to make some changes
and i swear i would've done something about it, if only i wasn't so deranged
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