It's been found 67 hours nicely short on what makes the world go round
I know this time I won't get a pricey "get-out-of-jail-for-free-card" or any of the sort.
Sitting here at 323 I hear your quiet snores, and I won't make a sound.
I have fear of waking you and defensively excusing my pound.

It's been about 5849 days that I can't see straight into the mirror
for my eyes are covered in a blanket of sub-reality
that 5 hours ago, became me.
Streaming from my mouth came harsh reality of self pity,
and fear.

I met my counterpart, the Jeckel to my Hyde
and in your eye I replied, "no I didn't"-
And knowingly, I lied.
Well let me tell you, when I put down the bottle my Hyde will have died.

Fear came pouring out of my mouth defensively,

in a stink like acid,
putrid and lucid
it dissolved pieces of our chain, link by link.

After that I fell exhausted into the bed of sleep,
wet tears from my eyes slowly seep as I reap
dreams upon dreams by my means of solitude.
Your voice echoes in the distance,
mine of reason faintly does too.
But I've gone away from myself and I won't listen
to us but I do miss them, I wish I could kiss them, us
and make it all better, without a fuss.
But this rage, my Hyde found at the bottom of a bottle eats at the lining of my stomach like rust and I vomit it back up as words
into your ears that have held me so dear.
And it kept coming through the open facit, the acid
and wears you down, I'm surprised you lasted.

Now I've woken from my drunken state with a damned headache to sit with my heartache
because when I opened my eyes, I realize
immediately what I accomplished in my demise.
I sat on the floor and cried
you must think I'm fried
and how could you love me now
when I acted like such a child sow.
I squealed when I heard the truth
that wasn't sunshine and rain (fucking) bows shoved in my booth.

My stomach hurts, it's raw with words
enough is never enough when they cut like swords.
So I think I won't say anything when you wake
I will shut up for once, for your sake.
Apologies won't be enough for this travesty
I hope I didn't make my own destiny
when I talked about leaving.
This morning my chest is heaving
and my heart is fiercely beating
this isn't a game
and I know it's my blind ignorance I need to tame.
I make a silent promise to us that I won't ever be the same.