Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow I will be able to break it-

Chains.

So many c h a i n s that have been dipped in tar and glued themselves to every chemical compound that bleeds the word "happiness". 

 

(I) have learned how to tune out the outside world in 3 ways.

 

1. Every obstacle that speaks in my direction I bend my spine so far that the words people are trying to get across, float right through the slivers my bones begin to create.

2. I catch looks that are tossed my way-

Sometimes fast;

Slow.

I wrap them up into my hands and c r u s h them until they turn to nothing but dust, blowing them in the other direction so they never reach my ears.

3. I feel you digging your nails into my brain

Slowly bleeding.

Your hands begin to shake and I have learned how to shut my brain off.

Complete.

Whole.

In full.

 

 

                                                                                                         (You) cannot reach me,

I wonder how small I am under your thumb. BIG enough to squash any dream I've ever leaked into your selfish veins.

 

 

Bright and nostalgic is the essence that is (you).

And me, a mere nocturnal flower.