They run and slide through gaps in holes. Somehow it is all still throbbing along the cusp of my own creation, as I stand alongside the only route back to the one I once loved when I was protected from the words hanging threats.
Does it in any way ever belong to me?
Possession is not existence any longer, other than when I am in the unconscious state.
Bluebird scratches at my eyes as feathers stick between teeth and I ask myself why? Why this morning? Why in this trapped boy did it have to take its form and grow and grow?
I attempt to be this man, but I am glued to the floor to stop the falling, to stop the swaying, to stop the uncertainty, to stop the risk of me falling apart, falling towards you, falling into old torn memories and falling far far away from what was once tapping at my skin all day everyday.
That freedom of youth was lost the day I walked into that very first hospital and it never came back.
Does it in any way ever belong to me?
Possession is not existence any longer, other than when I am in the unconscious state.
Bluebird scratches at my eyes as feathers stick between teeth and I ask myself why? Why this morning? Why in this trapped boy did it have to take its form and grow and grow?
I attempt to be this man, but I am glued to the floor to stop the falling, to stop the swaying, to stop the uncertainty, to stop the risk of me falling apart, falling towards you, falling into old torn memories and falling far far away from what was once tapping at my skin all day everyday.
That freedom of youth was lost the day I walked into that very first hospital and it never came back.