I grow tired of saying the things people want to hear its a prison of words I grow weary of acting the way I think I should its a prison of expectation I grow fearful of the future its a prison of projection I grow inappreciative of what I have its a prison of desire I grow scared of what you will think its a prison of judgement I grow lost of myself its a prison self rejection here I sit locked in these cages within cages maybe its true that I only keep the key to opening them but my hands are shaking to hard to unlock them I could cry for help but the wolves now laugh as they circle me they are like phantoms waiting for a body to posses they can wait forever they no nothing of time so I sit trying to be free within without letting them win while still being accepting of the cage of my current reality a heart locked up and safe in which the pale bird still sings the tune of someday when my nerves will calm when my hands will steady enough for the vibrant colors of athentic expression to turn the key I imagine slipping past the gaurds named critic and shame I will run towards a new kind of existance where the wolves are but warnings where the sky awaits the carress of my wings and when I look back the moment before flight I will respect where i came from. I will not long for the steel bars of captive safety nor the comfortability of familiar chaos but take a deep breath and bellow off key and in the moment a melody I will practice but never be perfect at endlessly evolving with each wing beat. I can wait forever I know nothing of time. Advertisement
Posted on: Sun, 27 Oct 2013 04:25:41 +0000
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