The water holds me tight like a blanket, like a shield,
From the blackness pushing against the window I have tried so hard to keep sealed.
I see the tank is almost empty perhaps only seconds remain,
Before I am forced to face reality, forced to face my pain.
The steam clouds about my mind and my being,
How can I be sure which of these demons I am seeing.
All I know is they\'re the Hyde to my Jekyll,
Yet they look just like me-with every scar, every freckle.
Perhaps I should be as accepting of myself as I am of others,
Perhaps I should see them as my family, like brothers.
I could could open up the window and let them all be one,
An army to protect me from the judgement of anybody, anyone.