I fell asleep on my arm. A poking sensation, But in my head. An urge to be happy Runs around. I follow it... I want to be happy, To be in control... My arm has the poking sensation. Feels like static. The sensation in my head goes away And seeps down to my arm to drip off. The crimson is my happy place. Watching it fall is my tranquility. The peaceful, Drip, Drip, Drip... My happiness falls with it... Wait, do I deserve this? I hurt my friend... The poking sensation comes back To my head... And the cycle goes on.