Drops of Gold

As I stare down the lights of a busy city,
I wonder what each of them mean,
To the rest? Absolutely not, but to me
How have I locked myself?
How can I set free?
Intrusive thoughts that make me swallow my own saliva,
How will come out this one? How will I fight ya?
Looking at the word warrior on my skin, I question myself, was it all a lie? Will I fight this day?
Been stuck the past few months in denial, in wanting a break
Knowing that I never tasted the chocolate, without baking the cake.
Staring at screens all day, and talking what the truth defies,
I find myself hiding behind walls of lies
Is this a confession? Is it a sentence?
I don't know the answer, whilst I type sentence after sentence.
The world is fucked and I feel like it lived in my chest,
Another drop of gold, gets me through my quest,
I live in my past, loving the melancholy, the sweet taste of peperoni as I stare down my balcony.
I don't get a choice, I think to myself again, as pain is my gift that I keep opening again and again
In the country of the big Ben, I keep asking myself... When?
I need to depart and never look back, but it's I always have do, because it decides who is who.
Living through my past, I enjoy every second, so maybe I need to move forward to look back and enjoy
I miss using ink, and get my thoughts on paper,
I manuscript every sink and go deeper and deeper,
All I need to do is decide, without that glaze in my eyes,
I want to run away from everything as I see each day die.