I Can't

I can't lose these thoughts
stuck in the back of my head.
Thoughts so perverse of me
they might wake the dead.
Words come out so fast,
I try to write them all down.
I must look, if you could see,
like a terrible, grotesque clown.
Please dear Lord, I ask for help,
when you hear this prayer,
for I am lost and now alone
in this cold, cold Winter air.