Fold and Die.

[dhyvd]

This one is just spontaneous, unlike most of my writing thus far which has been transcribed from notebooks or based on previous works.



If I Fold, I Die.

I don't mean my words
to hurt you,
but they have to get
away from me,
Leave the heart
they turn to stone,
run and be free,
or else I will die,
quite permanently.

I don't mean to cause
you any harm
by breaking all your
rules, and disreguarding
what you dreamed of having;
but I just want to live,
I really need to be free,
or else I will die,
quite premanently.

I don't mean to use
so may motions,
so much excess,
to say one simple thing:

I want to be loved,
but not controlled,
to belong, but not be
owned,
to produce,
but not be exploited.

I don't mind if it is hard,
I won't mind if it takes
a while for riches
to come pouring in.

But I do mind if my whole life
is less than the sum
of the blood, sweat, and tears;
those wasted years I folded my wings,

to fit into a house
that is still
Less than a Home,
a Crypt for my dreams to die within.