I'm not clear headed


there are things that I dread


I wish I could spend a year


living in bed


a dark quiet room


my own private tomb


I'd rejoice in the bliss


of sheer emptiness


alone with my thoughts


I'd swim in my tears


of ill wasted years


I wish I could hide


or be buried alive


frozen in fear


is better than pain


it's becoming all too clear


I've lost the battle again