I don't sleep at night for thoughts of you and what I'll do.
Dreaming a life of fright seemingly only subdued
by intoxicants, though with them my life is can'ts,
my words, rants
on a staggered stance;
No clear path through.
Intentions misconstrued
Me and myself collude  
to ruin an attitude
******. Still I feud
with myself and me
to separate what's glued,
but as wood breaks first
on what's naturally fused,
I crack first
where the aforementioned has affused
unto me a link weak and loose.
If I could I'd choose,
but know there to be no use.