truth

or 

death.

you believe that you

will die

when you lie to yourself and

bury the truth,

the true you,

under the pile of lies.

i am restless, you                               

probably can't see that. 

    but i believe you mean well.

so keep your song played and            

sing me to sleep.             

perhaps tomorrow,                             

i'll be fine.                     

to be honest i am scared. terrified, even. 

everything                                               

might have left me behind. everything

will probably destroy 

what's left of me.       

but you won't, 

                                   will you?