Turning to Dust

There are not enough distractions here in my cube,

I am staring at a blank page.

The demons in my head are at play,

And I am pretending to be normal.

How exhausting this is,

Existence exhausts me.

I want to run away from my brain,

I want to live in a society that would not deem me insane.

As I sit here at my 9-5 pretending that I have it all together,

I wish I was outside enjoying the weather.

We spend so much of our lives indoors being responsible adults,

I want to burn this place to the ground and go enjoy the sun.

I do not belong here in this world I am afraid,

Maybe another world, but not this one.

We are not compatible,

My brain is not compatible with my mind.

I wish you could take a look inside,

And see where I am coming from.

I am exhausted, but I am here,

Why, why am I even here?

None of this matters,

This world makes me sick.

My body is rejecting this cancer,

I wish I had all the answers.

Here I go again,

Time to conform to make them all happy.

Make money to pay bills, to die,

It is not happening fast enough.

Turning to dust sounds glorious,

I might be losing it;

Or maybe I never had it in the first place.