Trying to become the best person I can.
Memories don’t stick much,
It seems the worst do more than the better.
My hands don’t work as good as they did, lines go curvy from the shake.
My words they sound and taste stale on my tounge, nothing is as easy as it was when I was young.
I look at my face, my face isn’t what it used to be. I look myself in the eye, I can’t for long.
Could cry for hours and still not feel any weight lifted off of me maybe id fall asleep though