You’re afraid of being murdered in your house at night,
but it’s all that I dream of.
When money becomes a means only to survive
and not live with.
Waiting for a friendly face that never came
to rescue what I had.
And the racing thoughts hit harder
when the weather turns bad.
The brain rains, and the night hurts.
The people who speak behind your back never know your worth.
The last threads of a sane life wane.
It’s all inevitable, when the brain rains.
The bare walls are a sign of the time
No benefit to decoration
These material things are from a different world,
so, I avoid them without hesitation
But I’m only one bad habit away
from a shelter or a food bank
So, I put these idle hands to work
Before there’s no turning back.
The brain rains, and the night hurts
The people who speak behind your back never know your worth
The last threads of a sane life wane
It’s all inevitable when the brain rains.
I wait to hear “good morning,” like I’ve woken from a bad dream,
But the silence screams back at me throwing insults in-between
The memory of simplicity is a distant reverie.
It’s hard to look at all the things I could have been.
The brain rains, and the night hurts
The people who speak behind your back never know your worth
The last threads, of a sane life wane
It’s all inevitable when the brain rains.
Tom C- Blog and Collected Works 