The Truth about Winter

Look, the temperature dropping, my serotonin is plummeting Sun down by four o'clock, feel like the darkness is summoning Ice on the windshield, scraping it off with a debit card Walking inside to an empty house, man this winter is hitting hard Wind chill minus ten, biting straight through the North Face Mind racing at 180, stuck in a cold, dark place Seasonal depression creeping in, shadow boxing my own thoughts Looking out the frosted glass, feeling completely lost Thermostat on 75 but I'm shivering on the inside Nobody calling my phone, got nowhere to run and to hide Grey skies every morning, Vitamin D at an all-time low Staring at the drywall, waiting for the spring to show They say it's just the weather, but this cold is getting personal Isolation heavy, making every single hurdle full Of ice and sleet, frozen streets, slipping on the pavement Trapped inside my own mind, treating it like a basement Need a flight to the sun but I'm grounded in the freeze Just me and the space heater trying to fight off this disease, yeah. Staring at the snow banks, piling up against the door Pacing round the living room, wearing out the hardwood floor City looking ghost town, everybody hibernating Silence in the air is loud, honestly it's aggravating Breath turning into smoke every time I step outside Trying to keep the spark alive, feeling like it slowly died Sun setting way too early, catching me off guard again Darkness is a heavy blanket, wrapping up my oxygen Detroit winter relentless, feeling like a punishment Motivation evaporated, wondering where the hustle went Just a mug of black coffee sitting on the counter top Clock ticking in my ear, wishing that the hands would stop Scrolling through the timeline, seeing everybody fake a smile Haven't seen a real friend in what feels like a literal mile Icicles hanging down, looking like some jagged teeth Frozen on the surface but I'm breaking underneath Engine struggling to turn, battery is freezing cold Living in this tundra feeling like I'm getting old Gotta keep the rhythm going, gotta find a way to cope Spit it at 180 just to manufacture some hope.