o g-d.

i hate it when you give me those days when i rejoice at the happy songs.
i always regret those mornings at mass when i can sing lustily.
i want to hide away when you give me simple happiness.
i'm not cut out for that.

you are easier to deal with when blackness covers the solar orb.
you are more honest when you leave us to our miseries.
you leave not off in your desire to pry under the skin.
you just can't leave well enough alone.

come live in my dreams.