We observe three definite states of being:

Asleep,

Mildly content,

And furious, scratching your ****** EYES out

Sometimes I get so lonely
At 3 when it is only
Myself, the dark, and the stars
But I can't even see them because of the ******* clouds

One of my most dangerous hobbies.

Last night it led me to a cliff,
Gave me the option to jump and placed a shiny Saturn V in the crevice

It clutched at my throat, roasted anxiety in my eyes,
With the thought of losing you

Helplessness clogged my ears,
"You can't protect him from himself"
It hissed

"You lie to your mirror. You're just another idiot"
It sputtered

"Nothing can save you from yourself"
It laughed

But today thinking turned a mellow friend
His on-and-off companion, reason, tore through the glaciers of concern

"You can't always protect him,
You can't try to 'fix' him
He asks only for a shoulder and an ear
You can provide a moment of happines and
Sometimes that's the best anyone could ask for"
It spoke

And

"Of course you're smart, you little ****."

Oh, your project's due tomorrow!

We should call it logic

My mind preaches things I'd never believe

And my brain warps the thought to make me think I do