I wish I would die tonight and maybe tomorrow I could awake to a brand new life. Maybe I'd wake up with a couple of kids, a house, and a wife. Maybe I'd wake up and not have to pretend I don't hate who I am, not have to act like I have a plan, and not have to hold my own hands over my eyes as I cry every lonely night. Maybe I'd wake up to you by my side, but in bed I hide, wide eyed and awake tonight wishing just one thing could go right. Maybe I'll die tonight and not have to wake up to this life I lie, alone with nobody but I, and the thoughts of suicide, in this room devoid of light, where I lay down my every line in my attempt to express my plight. How tired I am of this fight to fall asleep and wake up in my favorite dream, the one everyone says could be if I'd just wake up and start to believe, be the things I mean to be, create the world I want to see, but I just can't leave, the sheets are calling me and I just might stay with them one last time, and leave this fantasy behind, forget about the life that my exhausted mind won't let me find, give up the expectations that I can break this bind, let my teeth begin to grind, and find my peace under a blanket of dirt outside