The longer I wait.

No more promises to go to bed earlier

 No more making up meaning for the mess on the floor,

No more pages all across my desk.

No more of the big clothes to hide what I don't have. 

No more burying myself in those goals I made.

It's all just piling up under me,

Pushing me up toward the sun,

And the longer I wait, the more I think it'll go away.

But really, the longer I wait,

The more it gets worse.