This makes sense in the night

Streetlamps and mania, but no twilight

The solitude; the quiet I seek

To calm the demons; I turn meek

The thoughts don't stop-too fast, too much

Worse than any down-spiral rush

How may I explain in simple terms?

When it's from experience you learn.

The dripping mess, gagging my throat

It doesn't make me fly, but oh how I float

I'm lighter, true, and weaker yet

Or is it strength that I get?

False strength, false cure-wicked pill doth deceive

For from me it will never leave.

I'm invincible, or else I'm doomed

As the inevitable crash still looms

We talk, he and I, as only two could

Who spend dark hours among the same woods

Who understand there are feelings without much reason

Who understand that this is just a passing season

I'm done for tonight, with this war

Of stopping it all or doing some more

I'm alone with the t.v. and the sounds

And I know fury will soon make its rounds

The sweating, shaking, scratching, crying

Though if I said I hated it all, I'd be lying.

This is what provokes us to keep that high

So that to our emotions we are not tied

The depression, the guilt, the confusion is gone

Too bad we know this won't last long

Anxiety may peak at the witching hour

And we can never pretend we have the power.