Usually I just settle my face in between my hands because I'm far too drained.
I'm far too tired to move.
This has nothing, to do with you.
These are the moments that still maim me,
The same ones that never quite escape me.
My face in a crowd, surrounded by sound, but none of their talking will wake me.
This is when I lose myself and wallow in personal hell,
You can't hear what people say because you never needed help.
I'm far too tired to move.