I woke up cold in a dark house, not a home
I woke up in a cold sweat all alone.
I don’t know why I even woke up at all…
Most of the time I don’t
I have nothing ahead of me
Nothing to look forward to that is
It would be a break if I had solely nothing ahead of me
But of course I am contained
Repressed, oppressed, stressed, depressed
Surely I am confined
And sometimes I die
Upon waking up again I choose to sit up in my bed in the dark
And within the black it is just my consciousness and my thoughts
My existence, reflective of the black, becomes one with the absence of light
Sometimes I sleep and my brain continues thinking in my head
Only to think about emotion whose practical use is now dead
Even if I had left
It was through the light of day that I had slept
Even if I had left
There would be nothing that can quell the aches in my chest
This house took my everything I had ever felt
These sheets, I acuse them of theft
Even if I had left
I would never part from the bed.