The Fact that I am Sad

I am bound by the corporeal and the lame
The passion is there but never capitalized
Equations fill the page
I can't speak the language, and my thoughts are the same
The only thing that I have crafted is one more reason why I should stop
It's hard to make work for yourself when it's all there is

I can't get rest because I've been thinking in my sleep
The wait of the world is just not for me
Squinting doesn't help the blur and I can't see
It's like plugging a battery into itself,
where does all the energy go
not to my bed cause I'm always in it
not to the laptop because the powerstrips full
But the bus seat is empty and the textbooks are wrapped
I skimped on gas and now the tanks gone dry
But that won't help with an Ikea Engine
and the fucking bumper stickers