The speaker is burrowing into bed as a way to escape a painful home. The bed feels like a crevasse, something deep that swallows them up, and they don't want to be rescued, even when people try to pull them out. The warmth is the one safe thing in the poem. Outside it, the speaker can hear yelling, breaking, and crying, but being under the covers makes it feel distant.
The mood is lonely and quietly sad. The speaker says they don't care about the people around them because those people didn't care for them, though the bitterness reads like self-protection. Checking the phone and finding no messages, "as per usual," shows how isolated they feel. Minecraft becomes a refuge: on peaceful mode, they can build their own world and get what they want. The short, plain lines and lack of punctuation make it sound like a private thought, tired and honest, from someone just trying to feel safe.