Fireworks and free falls,
Passion and primitive fear.
The bell rings three tolls.
I wipe away a cold tear.
I close my eyes,
Searching for the ache.
Yet, my mind lies;
It fears what is fake.
The effervescent landscape
Of my unconscious self,
Hiding away my mistakes—
Claiming it's for my health.
My waking hour.
Why I wither and I weep.
My lack of power.
Why I find comfort in sleep.