- I.am scared like you. -
My thighs are sore. I hurt them because I don't know what else to do. I pushed myself today, perhaps harder than I should have. I want to run. I want to run until I simply can't go further. I want to go until I fall to the unforgiving pavement, fall upon it like I fall upon my unforgiving barriers...scrape my knee like I scrape those around me. Regain my composure and escape my weak kneel of vulnerability, of need, and return to the charge toward that which does not exist.
My arms are sore. I cut them because I don't know what else to do. I push against the floor, opening my mouth to share a romantic moment with the carpet on the way down. Pink carpet, like my hair. A clever ruse to avoid the truth. My hair is brown, my feet rest awkwardly on cool, smooth linoleum, "and my fear is naked." It will always be. I've never felt safe like they say I've should. I would sell myself for the sake of being owned, all decision stripped from me. I would sell my life to a responsible owner, one who would take care of me as I can't do on my own. I would sell myself without a second thought.
My eyes are sore. I close them because I don't know when else to do. "I could have cried then, I should have cried then." It's been so long. So long that the very emotion of vacancy makes me ask for it. I'm asking for it.
My mind is sore. I seal it to the outside because I know what it can do.
"You look so precious now..."
My arms are sore. I cut them because I don't know what else to do. I push against the floor, opening my mouth to share a romantic moment with the carpet on the way down. Pink carpet, like my hair. A clever ruse to avoid the truth. My hair is brown, my feet rest awkwardly on cool, smooth linoleum, "and my fear is naked." It will always be. I've never felt safe like they say I've should. I would sell myself for the sake of being owned, all decision stripped from me. I would sell my life to a responsible owner, one who would take care of me as I can't do on my own. I would sell myself without a second thought.
My eyes are sore. I close them because I don't know when else to do. "I could have cried then, I should have cried then." It's been so long. So long that the very emotion of vacancy makes me ask for it. I'm asking for it.
My mind is sore. I seal it to the outside because I know what it can do.
"You look so precious now..."