Identity Crisis.

You’re the crack on the wall,

That helps me escape.

You’re that noose into which I fall.

You’re the safe haven I’d hoped

For all these years,

The deaf ears into which I call.

You’re the gravity,

That keeps me down on the earth,

And further down on my knees,

By your feet.

You’re the driver of the car,

That I own the key of,

Now we’re off and beyond any street.

You’re the beautiful crystal glass that I adore,

The one that holds up my walls,

You’re the poison and sweetness,

Inside this bottle,

And the vacuum that cushions my fall.