Head Space

When the proverbial darkness slithers in
Nighttime hours strip down my inhibitions 
I come to sad conclusions 
That might haunt me in the day

I am a litany of bad habits
I tread water that's in my lungs 
The flowers you left there are dead and now it's all dark water 
I start to think maybe there never was,never will be an it 
Maybe I can map the textures with my tongue 
And taste the pain of living with my fingertips 
But these cold fingers cling desperately to the warmest part of me and it doesn't always feel like my heart