Thin Line

There's a thin line between reality and insanity
It's tangible, and all too easy to snap
You feel it as you descend into the depths of hell
Trapped in your own mind, waging a war internally
that there's no way you can possibly win
What can you do when the monster you're up against
Is the one see every day?
What can you do when the monster you're up against
Has your own face?
The descend into madness isn't much of a descent at all
There are steps - small increments that weigh you down
Make you weary and make you forget who it is that you are
You hope for the end, hope it's better than the beginning
but the end is nothing but an utter collapse of everything you've ever known and loved
You'll question everything you ever knew, but no one can tell you
just what it is you're up against
They can see it, this monster you're becoming
but they refuse to acknowledge it, because what they don't see
They don't see the war. The tears, the bloodshed, the thin line of reality
so they'll hide the monster, the one only you can feel
they'll shove it in the closet, keep it in the dark
but you see, the thing is
monsters grow in the darkness