What my heart truly desires
Is to put out all these fires.
I pour out my cup of water
And the flames only grow hotter.
Because what I thought was in my canteen
Turned out to be gasoline.
So the fire rages on and I rage too
Because for now it's all that I can do.
But if and when the fires cease
I'll still be trapped with this disease.
This disease that's made its home inside my head
And makes me wish that I was dead.
"What about my family?
Better off without me? probably."
I tell myself "I have to suffer for my art"
But the thought leaves such pain inside my heart.
And every night inside my head
Is where they choose to make their bed.
In consequence I get no rest
Because these demons know me best.
With their words they reignite
All these fires that I'll have to fight.
And so the cycle starts all over
And I ask myself "Will all of this ever really be over?"
-Miranda Rayne Delano
