(Come on, get up, it’s time to wake up. You plan on sleeping your life away?)
I’d go back. I’d change everything.
I’d skip the cigarettes, savor every day
like it was the last sweet thing I’d ever taste.
I’d take my coffee bitter, my dreams sweet,
offer a smile to strangers on the street,
laugh too loud, sing off-key, bend over backward
just to get along.
I’d learn money rots.
I’d learn how cruel dumb comments cut.
I’d learn love’s scarce—
and still, somehow, I’d fumble it.
No one pays for work you haven’t done.
Words press harder than you know.
A soft hand heals.
A careless lie shreds.
The sun sets. The sun rises.
Days accelerate.
Epiphanies ambush us.
Heartbreak erases the map.
I’ve forgotten truths I never knew I held.
And yeah—girls get horny too.
Ancient peaks consume my view.
I kiss the clouds, drink the rain.
In all this stillness, one thing clarifies:
life’s a rigged game we can’t win.
Sleepless nights. Endless days.
My thoughts churn like wet soil.
Dreams stand in mirrors, blocking the door.
They’re lessons I forgot to learn.
Each second unmakes me.
Time presses its weight against my chest.
Wasted yesterdays. Tomorrows running out.
I’m drowning in what’s true and what I lied.
I scream at stone.
I weep at waves.
Why’d time leave me here?
Show me the secrets—tell me I still belong.
Tell me what you know.
They say:
you’ve known all along.