I write at night
To share my plight
On some website
Hoping others will give me some insight and tell me that I'm alright.

To my loved ones, I'm sorry I hide this side of me, but you wouldn't understand what's inside of me.
The echoes they bellow and tell me to follow the hollowness, the solemness.

I indite these words in confidence.
Behind this screen cause the outside doesn't need to see my conscience.
I'm a mess in my cranium,
better off inside an insane asylum.

Cell so small theres no room to walk
The days going by with each mark after mark
from a spare piece of chalk
In more ways than one, I'm in the dark.