I’m torn

Between needles and daggers

Either way I’m pierced

Either way I’m awakened

Either way I’m rolled

To one side or the other

One is clearly clearly right

Will elevate pain and more

The other, those daggers,

Are so familiar

But in the end

Will cut off heads

And there’s no yellow orange red there

You sleep that day away

And spend minutes

Making the best of it

Yet I long to greet the day with it

I long to greet sleep there as well

It takes a lot

To know the taste is changing

And it is a pleasure

Knowing its brought about