Nightmare - Zach Callison

He hasn’t been himself for quite a while

He won’t crack a smile

Prosecutor in his own trial

As the floor below him becomes so fertile

By his very own vile nile in exile source

But the pitter patter of his tears

On the bathroom tile

All his friends are dead

Heh, hold your dread

Not in the literal sense

He’s just incensed

By his own dense

Defense of the friends

That pretend to care at his expense

Until he’s dispensed

But that’s just his two cents

In case you were on the fence

All option exhausted

So he writes poetry like Nas did

Just face it you lost kid

Just close the garage door

And let your face get exhausted

Like your playing in boss

You’re nothing more than your feelings

From your floor to your ceilings

And out through your bloodshot ocular faucets

Boy versus brain

White noise versus the sane

Always versus the same

Cries for help exclaim

That he’s beyond repair

He’ll swear

He’ll despair

He’ll stare

Straight ahead in the mirror

At the source of his waking nightmare

(Are you writin' this down Christie? Yeah)

Most can’t sleep at night

They see the faces they missed

Try as he might somethings amiss

He can only see his

Fake plastic smile

The only problem with diplomacy is

The more he lies about happiness

The more lonely he gets

He’s standing on a bluff

Overlooking the city

The city’s biggest bluff

Is making itself look so pretty

He tells himself to be tough

Isolated and gritty

But gritty’s kinda hard

When his brain’s run by committee

He remembers too vivid

When he admitted

He benefited

From her arm being slitted from when he was pitted

Against the alited

But he was acquitted

'round when he submitted

Two prescriptions retrofitted

So afflictions were omitted

But no surprise the nightmares only get worse

When he takes the pills

For the first time

Poison is some kind

Kill the noise in his own mind

He’s seriously delirious and deliriously serious

Oh my dear sister Christie

I think his end might be nearin' us

Nothing can fix the fear in us

So who do I speak of

And why is he gray

He rejects all his love

See the prices he pays

To his vices he caves

In a crisis of fates

No tragic history

Only a mystery

So I say to you

Who?

Why don’t you tell me?