Weakness vs. Strength.

life is spinning and twisted.
crying, lying, yelling through dawn to dusk and every other hour.
your soul is strangled by the rope that tightens with every disagreement and every glare.
the helmet you wear during this war leaves your heart exposed to the dangers of flying shrapnel.
it's not your battle to fight; you're planted by the sidelines, dodging the passing bullets.

you're howling at the blue moon while flapping your arms to the beat of the silence.
your mind is scrambled and wandering along roads many never dare to wander.
you baked some, ate some, sold some and ate some more.
now you're washing it down with some liquid relief.
every night you repeat the process and beat your body down.
your internal machine is crying for a break, but its cries are silenced by the flood.

there is no way out- only a way to veil reality.
this "treatment" weaves a mask of smoke that covers the truth in your eyes.
no one can know of the war. no one can see the scars this way.
desperate words drag themselves out of your voice box and attempt to be heard, but are washed back down with each swallow of poison you push down your gullet.
the suffering you feel inside is undetectable to the naked eye.
fate's cruelty will end one day if you let the day come, but your belief is fading.

the persistence of your nightly pattern shall be the end of you.
if only you would have set your words free instead of choosing weakness.
you've crumbled under life's pressure and here you lie:
the rope tightened until your soul burst.
your heart victim to the bullets that dented it past the point of recognition.
your mind spun circles until dizziness knocked it out of place.
your machine broke down by the erosion the flood caused.

at least it doesn't hurt anymore.