This little nightmare comes and goes
Its dark and tainted when it comes it grows
it taints all my dreams it crucifies my night
its hauntingly fast, I'm losing this fight

this creature of dark this son of night
fleeing again at the first sight of dawns light
It holds my terrors and haunts my dreams
But the demons it carries are demons from me

A layered watercolor skyline
under perfect painted skies
Feel the water through my fingers
Pulling me in with the tides

I can't tell the difference
between their lines and my lies
that line is so thin for my helpless mind

Pillars of darkness steal my judgment
That I refuse and I deny
Spills of silence, clouds of vision
marks on lonely open walls

I dream of imaginary blood
that is only real in consciousness

It fractures my sleep
like hammers to glass
The pieces lacerate my skin
as I frantically try to fix the brokenness.

My life tastes sweet,
feels warm, and I
bathe in its deep
crimson pools of false love that
I doubt every second.

Too many words,
meaningless
needless,
that I hurl at you.

Too hard to stop
saying too much;
I'm hopeless too.

Love me like you did
The night we were in the city.
I'm sorry I won't stop talking,
You just looked so pretty.
We got lost on the highway
But we were fine.
Stuck in time
On the dark sandy beach.
I'm sorry I won't stop talking,
You just looked so cunning.
In the reflection of my memory.
I'm sure you're  sharing
All my secrets with him
Like you have been,
Because I was never enough.
I'm better now
Her eyes are deeper.
Hopefully she won't,
Tear out my heart
And leave it on the floor.

Choruses of songbirds lift my eyelids
for the fourth time since five.
The harmonies tenderly resonate in my ears
Singing me to life

Purity where I house guilt,
the songbirds spout glorious praise,
Honestly awake when I lie still
it is no wonder I hide from the light.

With a beautiful song, he bobs through the light
that he wears on his wings
Unafraid to be heard and no reason to fear
for he is not broken, for he has not sinned.

The songbirds sing me to wake
And I soberly stare at the shadows of trees
where they perch so fleetingly,
and I long to sing in the innocence of morning.