Goodnight, Poppet

How do I keep writing when my words have no sense, how can I keep going, from happy to tense, how do I keep going wrong, why does my poem turn into song? Why do I struggle to fall asleep, why do my words hurt so deep, why does night fall upon me, what is there that I can't see? Why do demons haunt my dreams, why is life ripping at the seams, why does it hurt to breathe so slow, why does it seem I have nowhere to go? Why is death always on my mind, why is pain never far behind, why do I struggle to smile so kind, why don't I giggle or laugh or unwind? Why do I ask all these meaningless things, when tomorrow even no answer brings. Goodnight, poppet, and sweet horror dreams, I know you'll hear my anguished screams.