Daytime Lamplight

Daytime's knocking on the door, it is looking for me again.
Nighttime doesn't mean a lot to me. It is just a convenience of phrase.
A label for a passing phase.
I pray I am strong enough for what we put ourselves through these days.
If I could find a way for us to be, to pass the time.
Something different instead of what we always do.
Something new.
Something for you.
Sometimes is always now, and it’s all I feel up too most of the time.
Sometimes it’s not worth it, the pain for me or you.
What we sometimes do.
On the days we just get so lost in getting high and away.
Another sacred cow for us to slaughter.
Is destruction what is required for us to feel anything?
Is pain what makes people like us feel real?
It is this junkie dream of delayed reality we have.
I understand that.
It is a death by degrees. Suicide’s now available on a payment plan.
The sour smell or distraction leaves, lingers in the air like the sound of a gun on a quite day.
You know all this looks good on paper. But we aren’t watching it on T.V.
When I try to think it feels like an itch in my brain.
What do you need to need from me?
We have Bugs in our veins.
Sunshine, back one more time, too soon again.
It has been looking for me like you do when I’ve been gone too long.
There is no right time, not here under the jaundice moon in the place we call home.