"We were like strangers who knew each other very well"

I've woken up every day for the past week feeling weird. Each of those days I had weird dreams. Not bad or nightmarish, not good, but elicit of the most bizarre feelings possible. They're the kind that make you feel just a little bit off for at least part of your day, if not all of it.

On top of that, I'm an anxious person. Sometimes, really anxious. As a result I've also had that nauseous worrisome feeling; the one where you feel like you're going to throw up and you're just waiting for the event to happen that triggers it, be it bad news, seeing the wrong person with another wrong person, doing shitty in class, whatever. It's been awful, and there hasn't been one damn saving grace to snap me out of it.

I put together a few loose-but-related ideas tonight at Scotto's. I really think it came out well. But past the writing, I don't know what to think. It's to the point where recognizing these things isn't enough anymore. Something's gotta give.

Right?

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"We Were Like Strangers Who Knew Each Other Very Well"

If I knew I'd been drinking from a powder keg,
I would've left my musket at home.
It's largely inaccurate anyway,
And, without the fanfare, more easily up I could blow.

Maybe if I did it in my sleep all my emotional sheep would follow
Some misguided, veiled dream on a long walk
Off a short cliff, with a riff, screaming hollow
Screams that'll drown out all the moments at which I'll balk.

If I had known to do this ahead of today
I would have left my watch somewhere I can't find.
It's largely inaccurate anyway,
And I needn't have wasted all this rhyme.

Maybe if there were a reason,
And for whatever reason that one may be,
I could stand mutual amongst time without desires that are treason
Instead of weighing it on top of me.