And it feels like
We're on the brink of something incredible.
I need your steady breath behind me as I lie awake at night
A gentle metronome, to solace me
      as   the twisting
        root of doubt
                 thrives
                                   in the darkness
                delving
         and
                        branching
   from neuron
                  to neuron
         Choking me wi th anxiety
until                bre    athing
                            be     comes    a
              d      istant
                         mem-
                                    or-
                ­                             y

But It's then
That I lean back
Against your chest
To touch the ebb and flow,
The rise and fall,
The simple, solid rhythm
Of your soul keeping time;
The only constant i'll ever need
Is You and Me.

She sparks in me a rage so dark
My stomach gets to roiling
I just want to rip out her throat
My blood's so hot it's boiling
Alas, alas, It cannot be
Such bloodlust is quite unbecoming
She's fortunate that I am me
Or I would name her 'usurper'
And soon would have her running.

Yes, I should go see a counselor.
Yes, I should probably take anxiety medication.
Yes, I should go see a doctor instead of ignoring the obvious cries of distress from my body.
Yes, I should not cut myself.
Yes, I should not throw up.
Yes, I should not be me.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
                                                                ­                   But I am.

I can't begin to tell you what it's like day after day
To sit about and wonder: Where'm I going? What's the way?
For me, every path is dark; they're shrouded from my eyes,
By the fog that's been a hindrance since I was young and realized
That the people all around me once had plans and wants and dreams,
That they'd craved fame and riches and had aspired to genius schemes,  
They'd recall their greatest childhood hopes and I slowly learned
That somehow, Disappointment was the only thing they'd earned.
This or that had stopped them from achieving their potential
And by and by they'd lost sight of goals once held essential.
In all their lives, whether young or old, the story was the same
great plummeting falls from such lofty heights, and the world was to blame.
Not all of them were bitter, some accepted it as fate
I'd wished they'd never told me, but by then it was too late,
To plug my ears and never learn that I can never win
And so my dreaming heart died, and reality set in.