When I’m on a bend again,
the voices in my head
throw me out of bed and put me in shackles.
The spikes are up and then
the battles that are lead
make sure the demons are fed or atleast tackled.
Memory is hazy but I swear I’m not crazy.

I hide from the feelings that crave their way outside.
I retreat only because I’ve hurt my feet.
It doesn’t have to make sense
burned a bridge and put up a fence,
avoiding dealing with a consequence.
I hide from the things that damage my pride.

I know this all sounds so primitive;
the way that I am, the way that I live.
In my face I’m always slapped
with these thoughts that keep me trapped,
forever debating fiction from fact
so I just let myself fall back
and tell myself that I am ruminative.
Memory phases me but I swear I’m not crazy.

I hide from the feelings that crave their way outside.
I run to trick myself I’m having fun.
It doesn’t have to make sense
burned a bridge and put up a fence,
avoiding dealing with all things past tense.
I hide even from my healing guide.

I keep myself up when I’m alone,
grinding teething and cracking bone
It grosses me out too, not only just you.
I’d like to start fresh, and start out as my best,
pick out a viable side quest,
and then put myself to a real test.
Memory is lazy, but I swear I’m not crazy.