Sitting still,
feeling the weight of forever,
the trembling of my heart.
The clock keeps spinning,
my mind won’t stop thinking,
your eyes always rolling.
What day is it?
Just a Friday.
Your days move easily,
but mine stay heavy—
deathly silent—
with the insanity always lingering.
Somehow, it’s always forgotten.
I speak up,
but I mustn’t look crazy.
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