who would understand,
the maze i have built in my mind,
instead of a dreamland.
it’s not endless, per se,
as it ends with me.
i’m the damsel screaming for help,
i’m the saviour that’s saving herself,
i am a little careless, as they say,
but i don’t listen.
what a mess,
isn’t it, babe?
I wrote this in a British accent, strangely, if that makes any sense.