Emotional Support Forest Lyrics

I always come back here to wallow because I, I don't know how to, how to move on

I sit upon this stump and fathom how little this will matter when I'm long gone

You're all I think about, you lift me up so high

Now my head is in the, it's in the clouds

But when I come back down I get so fucking irritated with everyone around

I'm sick of noise pollution, so I shovel one's and zero's into my ears

I'm sick of waking up without you

I'm, I am to weak to persevere

I pretend I'm everything that you wanted

But when I shut my mouth is when I am most honest

I'm out of metaphors and similes

I miss you so much I am losing sleep

I'm sick of making plans with people who desert out of, out of the blue

And I'm sick of being trans, it gets so fucking complicated, like you don't know

And I'm sick of being treated like a body, a body with no mind behind a screen

You treat me like a goddess, I'd invite you to the forest but that's another one of my pipe dreams

I pretend I'm everything that you wanted

But when I shut my mouth is when I am most honest

I'm out of metaphors and similes

I miss you so much I am losing sleep!

What is the purpose in living a joyless life?

A life in which you feel amusement but no elation?

A life in which you feel a steady metrenome of disparity and contemptment?

Or one in which you feel contemptuous toward the world around you, and yourself?

Is there a solution if pursuing your great passion only leads to financial instability?

What comes of those who possess no great passion?

Will the wisdom given to me by experience help me to answer my questions?

Or will it only encourage me to ask more?