I wonder what it's like to not "good morning"
Passing out without a "good night"
Some days the world will feel more lonely
Some days your head won't be on right.
The sun may hide behind those clouds,
The stars may not shine so bright.
You just need to keep going,
Everything will be alright. In time.

The **** clock is stuck on the seventeenth hour
A cold shower to wake up your mind
Eating ninety-eight packets of oatmeal,
It's the only breakfast I could find.
Nothing feels real without "good morning"
Tell me how to start this day
Stuck in my head so here I lay.

I know what it's like without "good morning"
I bet a lot can say the same
Put on my clothes to slave away,
I'm trying to keep my world all right
Until I put my head down
Passing out without "good night"

We hide in the saddest places
Because no one looks there,
Under the stones that have been left alone
Never to be unturned, I've learned
Its better to never open the bottle
They'd rather I wallow in waste
Because that makes me convenient, that's fair.
I'm the substitute even in the stories I write
So why would any other have any other sight?
Isnt that right, Claire?

Its easy to dance like no one is watching
When you know no one is watching.
Where's the auction I turn back on my body
The auctioneer is stuck, no one's wanting
The ghosts populate my cranium space,
The poltergeists are not done haunting
I want to taste real emotion instead of taunting,
I'm just a host for a past still walking.

They ask for real answers but my written tongue
Can spread darkness like cancer,
Can give hope to the hopeless
But some don't know what hope is
Can give hope to the hopeless
But maybe you noticed, now I'm the hopeless

I hang my head down low
When the mask falls and everybody knows,
Don't look through my windows,
Shades closed, I'm ok because they say so.
I'm not ok but I make those jokes
So they don't see real pain,
They don't see emotional strain.
Tried to fix the engine but it blows up.
Back on a clean slate, inside ready to erupt
No look he's normal, he must be great.

Don't talk about it, just walk around it
Look how happy the little clown is
I pull these balloons so they go loose,
Blow them up and tie my noose
Hung up until I deflate too soon
Playing that pop goes the weasel tune.

Grab my hand for a minute,
I'm ready to rip you into my element.
You want to dance, here's a chance,
Sweep the bones from the floor
Skeletons galore, oh I'm sorry.
You don't want to be here anymore?
That's a shame I locked the door
Lit the fire at my very core.
Welcome to my mental house
Let's venture in a little more.

Look at the walls, they're crumbling
Look down the hall, more nothing.
My head is busting, imagination rusting,
Haven't been dusting, confidence mistrusting.
I tell myself that I can make it
But every part of my life, I fake it.
Stuck in work, passion unawakened.
Oh wait, it's this talk, let's inflate it:
"It's really great you still write, Ryan.
I truly mean it, I don't read it.
I'm glad you're still trying after a decade,
Still laying your soul for all to see,
You must really believe in that hobby
I'd have been stopping a long time ago
Anyway, that's great for you."
Thanks for the encouragement, ******* too.

Let's go to my bedroom where the day starts
I've spent most my time in this part
Too angry at the cards birth dealt
Every day I wake up seeing that hearse
Feeling cursed, suffocation hurts,
Couldn't swallow so I thirst.
Get the adrenaline pen again,
Inject, inject, keep it flowing,
Keep him going, blue skin showing,
No one knowing that mental tolling
Like the tides I just keep flowing.

I get a queer eye for trying to help,
Most get their rocks off for hurting someone else.
I'm a ***** up, so I recognize that pain
But I'm looking to help others from going insane.
I'm not narcissistic, more masochistic,
Self-sadistic, lost myself, where is it?
No one wants to stay and play
So I guess I'll just keep this house locked away.

The prettiest smiles
Have the most broken minds
I say this as I keep my grin wide
I say this as I tie my tie
Looking into the mirror asking who am I
As if I have some truth to find
Just a guy who learned to write,
Searching for something that feels right
While I type on a screen I hold tenaciously
Thinking of the next line too long
The screen decides to turn off
Then it's me staring back at me
But in blackened version barely seen.

I stare at stars and wonder who's looking too
Reflecting light from me back to you
That's a lengthy light-year way to say
We are connected everyday.
It's chilly making bones brittle
Flicking my wrist to crack a little
I should really make my way to fire
Just a spark, the flames crack and spittle
Turning ablaze to something to admire.

The hardest nightmares
Can lead to the most beautiful dreams
I think this when my head screams.
Something wonderful awaits in time
Retracing my soul in every line
Searching for myself to find
I'm just a human with a creative mind.

"Hey Ryan, it's been a while
About two years by my count.
How's it going, how's world your growing?
You seem to be writing a bit more often,
Trying to write up a story that's rotten.
They don't believe in you, they don't need you.
Nobody would search if you fell off,
Nobody would be calling the dogs.
Burn up all your thoughts with one Molotov.
You're the most optimistic for all you knew,
The most pessimistic when it comes to you."

Do you blame me? You can see it too.
No one has to believe but myself.
Everytime i was put out on a shelf
I'm the one who let it happen,
Continue to write for sanity,
While they all laugh, until I can see who's laughing.
You want to try to hold the stress I'm handling?
We've been through a lot, you're tired too.
When I'm looking at me, I'm looking at you.

"Acting like a noble writer, you just want fortune"
I wouldn't mind it after carrying you, being tortured.
"Torture. That's funny,
you keep acting like everything's fine."
I smile to help others deal with their minds.
"No, you smile so they don't know you're dead inside."
Fine.

This is social poetry,
The words I let everyone read.
These letters won't cut very deep,
I could write them in calligraphy
Elegantly displaying for all to see.
Look how pretty they sit with me,
A pluffy little piece of parchment
That really said nothing, like a plaque
Purchased from a proper place
Wrapped with lace saying
"You miss all the shots you don't take"

This is social poetry.
The message falls short with time,
Generalizing emotion, pretending to be genuine.
Here's a five word statement, now base it
On life choices, calm the voices, noiseless.
No sir, we are not simple, basic, face it,
We want something real to read and feel
Like we exist in present eyes
And leave that one verse of Corinthians
That people love to quote to be crucified.

This is social poetry,
Where thoughts come to drift
A simple limerick when you need a lift
But when you want to know
About what makes the walls really tick,
I'll hand you my heart in pages to flip.