Muddled

This girl is walking around in a haze
and content to spend her days
fighting nothing but the many ways
that fear and temptation try to play.
And they fuck up her self-esteem, always,
and she can't seem to find what pays
them to hang around and still slay
her, and no matter what she does they stay unfazed.

The floor on which she treads always creaks
and the rooftop has unfixable leaks.
Her soul, heart, and mind feel so meek
and every day makes her feel just a little more weak.
Her strength begins to wane because it passed it's peak.
Can't seem to hold on to that winning streak
and her world is turning grey- so sad and bleak...
The stench of her lost battles reeks.

For the next few weeks she wants to hide,
wants to crawl inside
some deep, dark hole and die.
Her wings drag behind- clipped so she can't fly
and at this point she can only cry,
but the tears are so stale and dry.
So she puts on a smile and bides
her time- seeing how long they'll all fall for her lies.

This girl is falling into oblivion,
she's found some dark, lonely planet to live on,
by herself in space with no one to lean on
and from her lungs sounds her lonely song.
It is comfort for which she longs,
but by her lonesome, out where thin air fills her lungs
she can't reach for anything on which to hold on.
So this girl lets the tension go as her body floats miserably on.