Morning

Morning is the toughest time to be alive as a system Chaos and confusion Where did I wake up before when I was young? There are so many rituals that glamorize the night and they worship the day Because the sun When the sun comes up, who am I? Do I have to face what I don't know again? Where did they take me last night? What was I doing? And what are these- Bruises? Another day starts as I exit my nightmares Obscure visions and threats within that make the parts need to care What is that symbol? And who's that person? Dreams can be sent from other places, but I just woke up- And I don't fall for the same shit anymore When the sun comes up, who am I? Do I have to face what I don't know again? Where did they take me last night? What was I doing? Why do I hurt here? What am I learning when I'm not awake? And what are these- Bruises? My scars, I used to ignore them But as I aged I started to wonder why They're the map of all of the world I've seen And what the damages from ram-coh-uh mean Why the Littles ones sadly ask When the sun comes up, who am I? Do I have to face what I don't know again? Where did they take me last night? What was I doing? And what are these- Bruises? What are these scars? They need it to be aliens or something deep below But I know, I know it was just these men and women Dressing up in costume Humming certain hymns Using medieval torture to teach me BDSM As a child there, to become a vicious man like them