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T
Treat me soft, even though I’ve acted on the impulses of anger. I guess I must expect the same in return, I’m nervous of the words still left to come.
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Overwhelmed
I feel really overwhelmed, maybe the lorazepam will help. I’m stuck inside my head. I’m struggling, not handling the things you say. If you documented in song the demon at my door, maybe you shouldn’t have. I’m often worried about mind control, and the evil in me taking control.
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The Door
All the words that I’ve heard and wrote. Saturated with the cool air, frosted without a care. Crumble, the words will. My door is closed, I’ll keep running. Unease, stormy seas, meant to be’s crash through the entrance of this place – opening the door.
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Schizoreflective 