icHor nostAlgia | [poetry]

FLEE

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THERE'S A WINDOW ON A STOOL IN A SHIELD BEYOND THE EYES OF A DOOR THAT DWELLS IN THE LOCKET IN MY BACK POCKET/ THERE'S A SHADOW THAT AWAITS AMONGST A MESH OF BOILING FURY THAT BUBBLES OUT IN THE TEARS DRIPPING FROM MY EYES/
MY EXISTANCE IS A CALAMITY THAT I CAN'T FATHOM ENOUGH TO SOLVE/
MY CHEST IS AN OVEN THAT COOKS UP IDEAS THAT SPROUT FROM TREES ON FLOWER BUSHELS/ I WAS BORN TO FIGHT MYSELF IN A WAR ABOUT PROBLEMS THAT IM SURE I CREATED MYSELF/ MY NUCKLES BURN WITH THE BRUISES/ MY EYES STING/ I AM TIRED/ I NEED REBIRTH/ I NEED TO RUN.