this is where my mind goes when the water ain't too rough.
the reason you wanted, i'm sorry i couldn't give you that.
it's not just the difficulty of breathing in that thick air.
it's the way that i wanted the work day to end but hated being home.
how i couldn't answer phone calls incase a voice was raised.
i hate that money makes you want to speak to me more than my sombre mood ever could.
i hate that our conversations always became about another sibling.
i'm just a crumbled tissue in your back pocket.
it's always been like that.
it doesn't matter how hard i try or how much i try to bear.
Dudu*