Dying Inside

This life is killing me...

No wonder there're no such things as immortals

In My Sober Times

In my sober times, when I think of you…
I wish you were here, telling me what to do
Like you used to
With your wisdom that comes from nowhere
I wish you were here, telling me that I’m okay
That the burden of the world is not mine to carry alone…
But maybe those times…
Are indeed not my sober times
Those times…
Are just the times when illusions take over all of my senses
‘Cause in my really sober times, there is only me and this plain life
And those created to carve wounds to my soul