The mornings are hard I wake up licking my wounds, surveying my scars Hiding in the quiet Trapped in my head As I'm swimming through the tangle of sheets on the bed I'm drowning quick I'm already pulled into the thick of it A million things to say Not yet hushed by the distractions of the day I look to you I look to you Hours before dawn I stifle screaming thoughts with a silent yawn The cold and distant light Hid by sheets of grey and endless night I'll be alright I'm not ok But I'll survive A million things to say Not yet hushed by the distractions of the day I turn to you I turn to you I turn to you