Schematic

stress is the trigger,
the unavoidable catalyst.
every year, this time of year,
I fall into the trap.

'tis the season of joy,
and I feel like Charlie Brown.
though I intend to confide in you,
I retract in fear.

it is too much.
too many excuses can I make,
too many promises can I break.
I am afraid.

it is all happening again:
another year of perpetual hurt,
the electric shocks and waterfalls.
I seek some solace.

honey, listen to me.
there is no reason; it just is.
ask Kurt, ask the Tralfamadores.
I can't take this.

has this ever hurt you?
our heartsick alcoholic understood,
but I was just looking for some company.
I need you to relate.

all I ask is patience,
a serene sit-down heart-to-heart,
where I tell you this and you tell me,
I will be all right.