Cloud 9

The room is spinning,
The clock is ticking,
My brain is racing
It’s like I’m high.

It’s condescending
It’s overwhelming
It’s paranoia
I feel high.

The air is tasteless
The walls are stainless
I feel contagious
I must be high.

 Trapped in this room of torture,
My conscience is like a vulture.
Thoughts of you are choking,
Sinister and provoking. 

I am wound up so tight,
I feel like I’m losing this fight.
My temptations are overbearing
My pain I feel like sharing. 

Inflict it I will,
To the masses or to the few.
I just want someone,
To feel the way I do. 

This love of ours is binding.
But I find myself finding,
Suffocated in fear
And swamped in utter drear.

 So while you have a pretty face
And your lips are fine
I cannot seem to find my place
On top of cloud nine.