Steadfast Heroics

Thought Process

Instrumental in the way I get things done
No pressure, closure's illusion
But the seams prick me in my sleep
Endlessly roll over to find the perfect spot
Someone mentioned how to wake up
Intellectual, mini-prodigy
Skeptical when it saw me
I don't know what to make of myself either
I'll fake it until the end draws near
Either way, comatose delayed
Custom's done, my favorite one
Aggravated because it never works
Side effects are how everyone learns
Running in circles
Only chases my peripherals
I don't think straight
What I seek is questionable
Either way, comatose delayed
I could get used to this...