Count me out i’m not going down with this ship / It’s been a long ride, but it’s time I was done with this / abomination- i’ve been reeling since the first draft / thanks for the help as you watch me limp along // The block remains victorious as i can’t seem to fucking scale it / the lip remains out of reach, the edges are rounded and there’s no way to hold on // And while I’m scraping, clawing, and fighting / the rest of you watch with tilted heads. / I say the wrong words, in all the wrong times / I sit seething seeing red. // So where do i go? where I go from here? / In front of a blank page I just sit and stare / Pen in hand- you can’t say i’m unprepared / as you watch me limp along // it’s immediate, the need for some fucking sense of satisfaction / here i am- out on limb but the ground is so far I won’t dare to let go // At the end of the day, we’re all drunk and awkward / wrapped up in ourselves, yet we’re complicit / in letting someone wipe that smug look off our face. / The truth of it is, we’re set up for failure / we get down on ourselves, which just makes it harder / to phone it in, and call a day a day.