Feb 2021
Every day starts the exact same way
Beep, Beep, Beep
I get out from my slumber, look into the mirror and think
“I really don’t recognise you”
It’s kind of worrying this dissent has become a daily event
But I just brush it off and put it down to a lack of sleep
And think again
“Why do I wake up so early on my days off?”
I tell myself it’s to maintain a routine
When in fact I’m just scared to face what lies in my dreams
More specifically
Those eyes sat at the edge of my bed
Bedevilled with evil intentions with more cutting edge than a nuclear warhead
Trying to burn a hole straight through the back of my skull
Like it’s their sole aspiration to perform a tracheostomy style operation on my brain
But instead of giving me life they’re fixated in taking it away
Maybe I’m being paranoid
Maybe I shouldn’t even have the cheek to complain
But I’m beginning to feel like I’m developing dyspnoea
At a rate more common than my daily ipomoea
And with each passing second I can feel my rose coloured cheeks dwindling to grey
Much like the death of a summer sunrise
Once it realises it should be the usual leaden Manchester day
And if all else fails
The thang like teeth that hang like daggering icicles
Will masticate whatever’s left of me before I wake
Always before I wake
That’s where I operate in a mythical world state somewhere in Roubaix
I bet you thought I’d have more imagination than that
But with its rough terrain and cobbled streets
I find myself falling over multiple times with my two left feet
So I can’t find the time to relocate
All because of those demons that circle at rapid speed
Although, I believe they only exist to encourage me to secede
From the mundane reality I’ve found myself running away from
Honestly
When I’m asleep, I wish I were awake
When I’m awake, I wish I were asleep
And much like a secret that’s so desperately hard to keep
I find myself consistently on edge, moments away from blurting out the truth
But I just can’t find the way to open up to you
And admit that I need some help
Not outwardly anyway
So that’s why I socially distance inwardly
To avoid the moment I’m susceptible to the impending threat of waylay
Because I don’t think I’ll ever be in a position to save myself
Beep, Beep, Beep
I get out from my slumber, look into the mirror and think
“I really don’t recognise you”
It’s kind of worrying this dissent has become a daily event
But I just brush it off and put it down to a lack of sleep
And think again
“Why do I wake up so early on my days off?”
I tell myself it’s to maintain a routine
When in fact I’m just scared to face what lies in my dreams
More specifically
Those eyes sat at the edge of my bed
Bedevilled with evil intentions with more cutting edge than a nuclear warhead
Trying to burn a hole straight through the back of my skull
Like it’s their sole aspiration to perform a tracheostomy style operation on my brain
But instead of giving me life they’re fixated in taking it away
Maybe I’m being paranoid
Maybe I shouldn’t even have the cheek to complain
But I’m beginning to feel like I’m developing dyspnoea
At a rate more common than my daily ipomoea
And with each passing second I can feel my rose coloured cheeks dwindling to grey
Much like the death of a summer sunrise
Once it realises it should be the usual leaden Manchester day
And if all else fails
The thang like teeth that hang like daggering icicles
Will masticate whatever’s left of me before I wake
Always before I wake
That’s where I operate in a mythical world state somewhere in Roubaix
I bet you thought I’d have more imagination than that
But with its rough terrain and cobbled streets
I find myself falling over multiple times with my two left feet
So I can’t find the time to relocate
All because of those demons that circle at rapid speed
Although, I believe they only exist to encourage me to secede
From the mundane reality I’ve found myself running away from
Honestly
When I’m asleep, I wish I were awake
When I’m awake, I wish I were asleep
And much like a secret that’s so desperately hard to keep
I find myself consistently on edge, moments away from blurting out the truth
But I just can’t find the way to open up to you
And admit that I need some help
Not outwardly anyway
So that’s why I socially distance inwardly
To avoid the moment I’m susceptible to the impending threat of waylay
Because I don’t think I’ll ever be in a position to save myself
