In these moonlit hours
I lay here, my thoughts racing
Sometimes it's hard to handle
The realities that I'm facing

My mind is over-tired
Yet my thoughts keep me awake
It's just the way I'm wired
It feels as if there's no escape

Flashbacks hit me like a flash flood
I'm drowning in the memories
My wounds have opened, there is blood
Pouring from my arteries

As the crimson river runs
It feels do or die, this battle
The journey's never any fun
When you're up a creek without a paddle

I see everything so vividly
The visions that dance before my eyes
I'm overcome with melancholy
As I whimper out soft cries

Then just as quickly as it came
The feeling is gone, I'm no longer numb
My body's shaking dissipates
As I brace myself for when the next wave comes

Staggering down a moonlit road, searching for the end to constant flashbacks,
I'm turning into a trembling mess of memories
Just looking desperately for the golden happiness evading me
My mind toys with our reality and a nightmare filled mayhem
I'm slipping from sanity, I'm begging, take me back when....
Everything was simple

and i wonder if we spoke today
you might deny it all.
I wonder if you might care
to hear about
the flashbacks;
the nightmares, the fear.
Do you think about how
it must affect me
that I have to face you every day?

Don't think
I can take it
much longer, anyway.
You burn my eyes,
your voice curses my ears.
Your smile swallows me whole
and I wonder,
I truly wonder,
do you even regret it at all?

Everybody's got a story to tell
Everybody's got something to hide
Everybody's got something to say
Everybody finds someone to divide.

And the beast is finally far away from me
But it's not so far if it's stuck in my mind.
He's got half his head underneath his baby's bed
Full of stuff,
He'll soon grow up to find.

And there's something hunting on the streets again
It's following the coloured prints on a dress.
Another flashback yet again begins
Swimming in my head and through the red
In my veins.

Everybody's got something to share
Everybody's got something to take
Everybody's got something to sell
Everybody's got their forms of prey.

It's crawling under my skin.
Growing larger in my rib cage.
It's this feeling I hate.
When I know it's coming.
Like watching a **** begin to crack.

I filled the floor with broken glass and ***** clothes. I dropped a pitcher of something on the carpet. The shower is on and my clothes are soaking wet.

I'm suffocating on the secrets of June 15 1999.
My grey walls turned dusty brown.
My pumpkin candle turned to stale cigarettes and moldy food.
Heavier and heavier.

Again.

In the morning I'll ask you to replay the
night and try to piece this all together.
I obsess over the tiniest details that I have dragged out of my subconscious.
Descriptions and words spilling from my lips, fleeing like escaped prisoners.
Although the fugitives legs will never grow weak from running to the sun, his cell walls will stand tall behind him, waiting for his return.

The moon is calling and I don't have enough duck tape to patch this **** together or the key to break these shackles from my ankles.

I brace myself for the weight.
Growing larger in my rib cage.
Heavier and heavier.

Take notes this time, for when the morning comes, I'll ask you to replay the night and try to piece this all together. Clue by clue, I'll find a secret.