mounting pressure

Lazy afternoons passing by, leaving many bulging veins.

Each fruitless 24 makes me immensely restless.

Reckless interviews, missing of you

I can feel it eating, eating at me too.

Everyone once in awhile, the gears run dry

I feel the pressure cranking, I rarely know why

What do I really want? 

I hope I'm not driving you to yet another corner.

Come back, gotta chill.