Left the TV on
Better than the stove I jest
Of course to want to eat you’d have to have the will to live
The volume loud,
Like flares, they caution
She’s in the kitchen folding another load of laundry

Forgot to lock the door
An uninvited guest
Couldn’t hear them coming up with such careful footsteps
Saw them cross the hall
Knew then it was too late
Cut myself breaking the window,
I’d fall 3 floors before I wake

Huddled around they keep asking me

Are you asleep or are you dead?
Hard these days to tell any different
Is either better than the other?
So hard these days to tell

Spent the next couple days in bed
With wires on my heart, a bandage on my head
A bucket beside me for relief
Can’t move a muscle, can’t even blink

Huddled around, still they’re asking me

Are you asleep or are you dead?
Hard these days to tell any different
Is either better than the other?
So hard these days to tell

Next week I’d be released
The only one to make it out
Can’t live free holding onto this amount of guilt and doubt
So I pack what I need
Turn off all the lights
Put they key in the lock and leave everything else inside
And I park myself on a bench
Not a single shelter in miles
Eyelids frozen open keeping watch through the night
Felt a jab in my side, a little boy with curious eyes
Pulled up with a bag, his coat in his hands
Reached out as he wept
And he asked me
And he asked me

Are you asleep or are you dead?
Hard these days to tell any different
Is either better than the other?
So hard these days to tell