Release

My lungs lose air The aching fills them up I struggle to inhale happiness And exhale agony Because the world has a habit of producing lonely people I could be in a room full if everyone I love I would still struggle You could be sitting to my right Making me laugh harder than before With your stupid chemistry jokes I would still be dying The only thing I have a habit of making are regrets And fair weather friends But the thing about regrets is The thing that you regretted Was exactly what you wanted at one time Snake a chord down my throat Puncture my lungs Release the lonely