sometimes it's cold sweat and the pulse of my own drum
and the night is not night but it's just as ageless.
outside is brown and beige. smoggy. glum.
numbness outside, unreality. numb it out,
like there isn't a ******* hurricane outside my window.

dear god, is this how you wanted me?
dear god, my knees are sore from the questions i've been asking.
great plans. great disasters and the minuscule molecules passing through.
is this a waste or not? answer me.
dear god, answer me.

sometimes it's hot sweat and slipping palms, slipping fingers.
and the night is dark as **** but it's just as loud.
you don't mean **** to me; i grasp and slip from you.
i feel you everywhere but i will numb you out.
like there isn't a ******* apocalypse outside my window.

dear god, these nights are endless.
and i know this is what i wanted but it turns out, god,
that the last train out isn't to home. my windows are broken.  
home is lost in nightmares and skin and dear god,
i've run out of questions.