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.