I'm not sure of anything,
Accept for the fact
That I need to get out of here
Before my mind snaps.

I'm questioning the way
I move and breathe and blink.
Is this okay?
What will you think?

I need to go home.
I need to take cover.
I need to find a strong roof
To hide for a while under.

But I have no home
Except for the one
In your arms.
The house I live in
Always feels dark.

I'm worried that I'll get lost
In the emptiness of
That big, lonely house.
I'll be trapped by the cold
With no way to get out.

So how will my mind
Decide to pass the time?
How will I stay sane
With so much room
To let my stupid thoughts loose?

I don't want to paint
I don't want to sing
I don't want to read
I don't want to write
What the hell will I do
With so much time?

I'll sleep for as long as I can
To avoid the inevitable
Toil in my lonely brain