The Poem Book That Shouldn't Be Seen [P1: If It Goes Up, Must Come Down]

Mental Health.

Every day I feel emptier,
I think I'm losing my mind,
I have been a bad searcher,
Because even if I was trying, the truth could not be found.

Because even though I know I have to think outside the box,
I can't do it without leaving my sanity,
And it's hard for me to cross this narrow path, as if there were a fox here,
Telling me lies, that I ran out of humanity.

I think I need a psychologist,
I'm going crazy,
A therapist,
Let me get rid of being lazy.

My mental health is declining,
And my shot to save myself was neither oblique nor parabolic,
I'm fading,
Stopping being static.

Every day I break a part of me,
Trying to fit in or the opposite,
Wanting to be more like you, art in time,
Fighting not to lose myself in so much white.

1991,
0709,
With black wine I fill my heart of stone,
Losing the bro who grow with me, myself.

Zero times we will be,
I was born on seven, you on nine,
Calm as a nine month babe,
Perfect as number one.

Losing myself on the road,
I'm lost,
I will always be mad,
That will be the worst,

But it's the present I won't be able to change.