i used to love the night and now i dread my bed using all the light is how my head got spent torturous virus talk to my eyelids walk in my size nines is this depression or a lesson from inner pressure pressing either way the fevers it deals me are evil the thing that i love most is trying to kill me i have the queerest feeling of my dearest appearing to be leering from the ether fear more fever i don t like sleepers drugs make me sleep sleep is like death to do death when you re dead bridge disappears through fog in my ears for this chronic fatigue there s no tonic it seems lucid thinking is loopy to think of on and on weeks the thing that i love most is trying to kill me general health making my mental health break but i ll never let go of what helps me create i m nothing to this point but for this love love torturous virus get out from my eyelids just wanna ride out life in the key of c i won t bash the black notes i won t ask for answers glance up at the bannister the thing that i love most is trying to kill me the only good thing and i should cling to it good are the sparks of good heart that are parked in the darkness shaking eyes that hate me to write but make me think up quite nice ideas it s like me enemy telling me forget the pen dwelling the madness and sadness is long but flashes of mastery it seems  how many ways will it warm up eight months ago fate came to break me in somewhat and rape me on the flames the queerest feeling of my dearest appearing to be leering from the ether i fear more fever like the bridge disappearing through fog in my ears there s no tonic it seems for this chronic fatigue i m happily trading insanity lately for passion that makes me a man at least maybe the thing that i love most is trying to kill me the thing that i love most is trying to kill me what was i thinking who was i then duly i tried truly amen what was i thinking who was i then duly i tried truly amen pull some paper out the printer pick up a pen and pen into the winter the oldest cell in my body s only ten years old with the smell of the kitchen i dwell on the kissing of my missus holding a bowl and reminiscing pull some paper out the printer pick up a pen and pen into the winter