Unstable

Imaginary lines threaten reality,
Secrets threaten to become known,
We're all hiding away from identity,
Hiding from the one meaning
We'd spend forever just to find.

Our minds crave geometric shapes,
We yearn for organized disaster,
Hours are spent defining destruction,
And we never really learn from spilt tears,
Consequences become impermanent.

The time spent in solitary confinement,
Is only to feel special.
We can't handle the perfect moments,
Begging for just one real problem,
Just one real separation,
One we could hide from the world,
We ask for a secret for ourselves.

Everyday we're mentally unstable,
Imaging our lives as dark as we please,
Crying even if our eyes have yet to moist,
Screaming for the pleasure of undivided attention.
We fight what we're given,
Prying someone else's life from the gutters,
And placing it in a comfortable home,
Replicating any action resulting in pyschotherapy.