My manic mind suppresses reality.
Submerged in make believe, it welcomes insanity.
To be conveniently hidden in the wake of company.
Fake an interested persona, easily it comes to me.
Until I get lost in my mind, with a pen by my side.
In the shadow of the night, I have nothing to hide.
Most think it’s melodic,
The way my words rhyme to manipulate.
I think it’s ironic,
That the words I choke on provide my only escape.