These nights do not go by far as gentle,
I wish I could say that you still make them smooth-
I've been jumping around lately too near the edge
suffering minor abrasions you can no longer soothe.
Time was, I was brass knuckles, you had me wrapped
knowing I didn't mind the fight-
and you slipped into me when you felt the urge
streamlining a path through the dark for my flight.
But you know there have been certain times
when I've needed you more than any words I've spoken-
more than any gaze through eyes that never slept
now fighting the empty to keep themselves open
heavy from searching the chaos to fix a spirit broken.
It's much more than I care to deal with now
if you could, just for a night, walk in my shoes-
you'd know too something is bound to happen soon
and what it will be will push beyond what I choose
to end this fight just to survive, no matter win or lose.
When gentle nights cease, you ask what's the use
and think more and more just to call it a truce-
when the heart is too heavy and the soul is gray,
when the mind is cluttered and the nerves are afray...