How Would You Know?

How would you know that maybe I haven't been skipping dinner

for the past couple of weeks?

I'm not hungry for a meal,

I'm not thirsty for knowledge,

I'm starving for feeling. I'm parched.

Hand me a pen and some paper,

I'll write down some notes to evict the horrible thoughts away

from the home they built so sturdy in my head.

I leave my demons in my notebook 

so maybe that's why I can't study all the time.

Sleep is my cigarette.

Yeah, it takes the headache away but 

it's a cancer and I'm addicted.

So maybe thats why I can't always finish my homework at night.

Maybe your class isn't exactly making me feel alive.

I feel like a cow.

No, not in the sense that I am insecure about my weight

but in the sense that we are cattle.

I don't want to fall in that vicious 9-5 cycle.

My days are cyclical enough.

How would you know that maybe life at home

isn't so rapturous?

Maybe I'm feeling captured by the only place

I called a safehaven.

So no, it's not always easy to do everything you say.