Switch

There’s a switch in here I can flip
and darkness becomes light.
It’s loose, and tired, and counts it’s sheep
for a while until my hill’s too steep.

Slow strobing few years.
Flashing, darkness, seeking out fear.
Slow strobing few years.
Stuck inside and blinding my clear.

It gets dark and I can’t sleep
or see the switch in front of me.
I look around, I dive in deep,
I hit a wall before I breathe.

Soon I learn to speak.

Switch, stay awake.
I’m alive right now and
one of these days I’ll strap you.

No looking back. Back’s a bunch of lessons.
I always wondered what it’d be like to exist like this
and I think I’m starting to like it.

Smashing into the same wall, I took two steps back
to see a door left for me, just to the right of me.
Leads to what is right for me.
I bet it’s been there forever.

Don’t look back. I’ll be back.
I need to scope the strap.
They’re right, there’s better out there, perhaps.

Tapping into special. Tapping into me.
Just as simple, though easier when bright.
Bag of chips on my shoulder.
Would anyone like a bite?
Try to turn off this light.