Swirling back down to the marshes,
Back from my temporary high,
Zoning back into my inner sadness,
Back to feeling like I want to die.
High glass ceiling made of tinted windows,
Cold, tiled floor painted red,
The rest of the hall covered in shadows,
This is what's inside my head.
Save me, save me if you can,
From the monsters clinging onto me,
Their offers are truthfully tempting,
They just want me to be free.
