There's an invisible burden I've been carrying on my back
It causes my shoulders to sink, my head to drop, and my gaze to fall
I struggle to stand tall
Most of the time I don't even realize what I pack

Let's track it all back, sit for a minute, to see what's in it...
Inside it is a ringing clock, ticking away the time I've wasted
Inside it is a void of loneliness, sucking in my social energy and leaving me empty and voiceless
Inside it are the demons I dread, all those whose egos I naively fed
There's scraps of rolled up film to torture and harass me in my sleep, and to question if my body is even my own

There are pockets of pain, hearts I've slain, words said in vain...
Wondering why real life falls short of fantasies and golden antiquated memories
There are hopeless desires, photographs set on fire, all the dreams to aspire...

In this moment I am an observer
Let's pour out these objects
The burden has been great, and the burden has been heavy
There is no need to carry all this weight on my back all day long, through the week, until the end of the month, up to a year, throughout a decade, or with me all my life
I don't even need a reason to unpack, I just need to unload this and get back on track