Empathy is a myth.

How sad is it?
When you have a window message of him open,
But you squirm about how to start talking,
Until he goes offline?

When you're at the bottom, the only place you can go is up
But it's a long way down.

And its when I take Hollywood movies,
And copy and paste our faces onto them,
That keeps me hoping. <3

I'm lucky, I have everything
So why can I still convince myself to cry?

It isn't the fear of this life ending,
But the fear of the monsters hiding after it.

I just kept humming to annoy the people around me
And wound up giving myself a headache.

And how much more rest do I need?
Until I stop living life in a daze?

I'm counting the days between when you're online and offline,
Since I can't count the days between when we talk anymore.

Poke fun at wounds that aren't there anymore,
Because pushing you down means I feel better than you do.