Juiced

I'm done, I'm out of it.
I'm tired of not knowing what to do and not taking action.
But instead of taking action, I'm done.

It's not worth it, it can't be with the way I think.

I don't ask for much in return, so I don't know how I'm going to survive the year.

I got off the curb on the wrong foot and that's the first impression,
another secret stalker and another stupid depression.

I know as soon I as I say this, I'm going to contradict myself and think it can't be that bad.

It isn't that bad.

But if it was, I'd feel a little secure.

My safety net is cracking.

I'm feeling a guilty hiss like one last cigarette.

Fade instead of walk away.

If I walk, it gives people to catch up.
If I fade, I'll have been gone longer than people realize.

I'm feeling embarrassed more than anything.