How the World Should Work

Try to focus elsewhere

Than the hurt that’s in my vein

I’m cheating on the healing

For I’m sleeping with the pain

I want it gone tomorrow

But tonight I need the strain

It captivates, it motivates

It keeps me in this lane

What would I be without it?

Would I be the same?

Continue with my writing

Would I concede the game?

The hurt is real, its present

Each and every single day

I fear to think what I’d become

If one day it went away

It clouds my mind with thunder

Yet the lightning feels so right

As I wake and fake the day

Then remove the mask at night

My cloak, my shield, my weapon

This torment is to me

My life is locked in writing

And pain; it holds the key