Poezja

I'm tired,
I'm young,
I'm drowning just for fun.
Whenever I see you,
It reminds me of why I want to go,
and why I want to stay.

I've lost blood,
and that's why I acted like I was caught in mud.
I've gotten so used to pain,
it's the only thing that's keeping me sane.

It may seem like I'm tired,
and I am,
But not because I'm loosing sleep.

A towel can clean up my relief spill,
But what's the thing that won't let me kill?