the ceiling above me looks so far away
yet i see it the same way everyday
lying in my bed wondering how to rest
a troublesome mind and to prevent decay

what are friends to me? objects or tools
others use you, employ you as fools
some are true companions, caring for your pain
others are decietful, and offer only a pool

a pool or what? nothing thats not new
something that appears everyday and ensues
this thing is my tears, flowing like a gash
like a bloodied slit, my eyes open to you

and then i fade to black