Dementia

They've asked me to describe my depression
I always tell them I enjoy it
As much as a bottle of good wine
Or german beer
Although I may also get drunk
At midnight
And sleepwalk
Through your dirty conscience

I fear confusion
There will be a time
Where these feeling are a misfit
A slain second
No more than a abstruse twilight
Sun painting the heresy of colors
Your love
The burden in the abyss

I am the clown now
Laughing and crying
For no reason
I shall clutch every laughter, every tear away
The foot bridge between realms
broken
I love every moment of pain
Mine and yours...