dirty room, dead me

I always put everything off Then one day turns into two Two turns into four And four into six Time has a tendency of slipping away from us Faster than we can even realize It really is of the ecstasy The ecstasy is quick too escape My room is rotating The same way something inside me is dying It hasn't been cleaned in days Probably the same number of days it's been since someone truly checked on me I'm not complaining though I know I can't complain Life's good, life great So good that it's been stabbing me for some time now and I'm still alive