anxiety hurts from fuck world by blood girl

the thing is
anxiety hurts
cant breathe properly or go outside
act human enough to feel alright
when i want to

and it kills me
that reality is a question mark
my brain is god and i am man
desperate for a fucking answer
and i need it

and i need it

and i need it

and i do it sloppily
by it i mean living
spend so much time worrying
i never do anything
i worry about missing out
on plans i cancel anyways
to stay inside and hate myself
cause i would rather die instead
i hate the shell i hate the play
i hate the words i try to say
the way they stick to my throat
the cars on all the empty roads
the way i want to lay down
in the middle of the street
lay my acne cheek
on the cooling wet concrete

and it is bad
but its real

the way i dont believe it when i know that its sincere

cause it is bad
but it is real

the way i feel when i can’t tell if i am actually here

and i do what i can
but nothing matters
and i reach all my limbs out
but nobody cares
my mom says it is ok to feel shattered
but she doesn't
so she never really gets it

and i do what i can
but does that matter?
or would it matter if i did something more?
cause i hear somebody thru the wall
yelling at their kid
and all my blood it freezes cold
like i am being hit

and its fucked
and its surreal

the way i want to touch someone to feel like i exist

cause it is fucked
and its surreal

to know that i am not the one who made me into this

and i am touched
and it is real

that sometimes i hear voices whispering my name in tears

i'd like to think
that i believe
that one day
i'll be actually happy

but i dont
is that ok?
can you hold my hand thru it
till i somehow find a way
i really want to
i want the dream
the sweet illusion that one day
i will wipe my brain clean

or maybe just let go of what im holding onto
just let go of all the shit i still carry with me
or maybe just let go of what im holding onto
let go of all the shit i still carry with me

• Folk
• antifolk
• folkpunk
• outsider music
• sad
• shit
• Denmark