Mother

Most days are easy,
I'm hiding under
the spells of
lights, the lights, the lights
in stereo.

But some days
my thoughts get busy,
they hit like thunder,
a thunder
my skull can barely hold.

No matter where I look,
no matter how I move,
the perspective never shifts, I'm in 2D.

I am
hiding under
the spells of lights in stereo.

Keep me
from the thunder,
a storm my heart can barely hold.

If I could learn
to get ahead,
to be the driver
of my own head.
My body does
what my body do,
it knows what it knows,
but oh, no, no,
none of it is true.

Oh mother,
Oh mother,
how much of me is you?

Oh mother,
Oh mother,
how much of me is you?

Now,
most days are easy,
I'm falling under
the spells of
work, the work, the work,
the work that goes on.

How to
keep up with living,
when all my senses
conspire
to twist what's right or wrong?