wight

Bereavement and concealment, a distinction without a difference

Move out the hood: I swear, I made it my mission

Channel my inner Drake, I'm gold when I touch this mic

Anything less wastes the time that's in short supply

Why does the joy of life make thoughts for us to die?

Those who make us happy simultaneously make us cry

These contradictions build spines and fuel grinds, in turn, these experiences sharpen our minds

See all this love but I don't want to partake

School teaches us fractions but hasn't taught the heartbreaks

My heartaches, it correlates to every one of my keepsakes

I think about how all these may have led to my mistakes