At night between

 

The conscious world that's filled with thoughts that were of us.

 

And the unconscious that's filled with a pitch black and unknowing dreams.

 

That middle ground where the ceiling is the most astounding piece of work the world has ever seen.

 

Here's where my horizontal arm lays

From the bed that it strays.

 

No physical stories of pain

Or ones of strain.

 

But here it lays like so

But there is still woe.

 

I like my arm to lie like this

Imagining blood fall that I wouldn't miss.

Oozing and gushing.

Drip, drip, drip.

 

I like my arm to lie like this

Like I'm giving blood

Slowly and uncomfortably leaving me.

Swirling and twisting.

 

I have too much pride to fall so low

I have too much shame to think of this.

I have too much self-preservation to act upon this.

 

But I like my arm to lie like this

Because when thoughts of you enter my head

I go insane and numb.

 

But I like my arm to lie like this

Because it makes me feel you less

I don't remember your caress.

 

There is still so much woe

And here is will lay like so.

 

Only mental stories of pain

And ones of strain.

 

So here is where my arm will lay.

Horizontal from the bed it will stray.

 

In the middle ground where I think the ceiling is like stars.

 

In the unconscious pitch black dark on the cusp of dreams.

 

In the conscious where I think I'm stupid for leaving you.

 

All on this quiet night.