Its late when I finally return home
                         walk to my room into my cold empty bed.

It's not empty because I'm alone
I'm never alone inside my head.
                                                
                                                      My thoughts roam.

Why do some parts feel so dead?
The answer has yet to be shown.
            
    I can't deal with these thoughts inside my head
              my subconscious is tired, my patience is blown...

                                                      T­hen it all turns red

Thoughts free to wander the unknown.
Once again I've spoken thoughts I never should've said,
and that is why I'm in this bed, still physically alone.