If the world was kind enough
To set me free.
If reality pulled me
Out of the debris.
If the chains would sweetly break
And leave my wrists.
Yet the backstory persists.
If my doubtful mind
Could bloom under your reign.
If I could wash off
The darkness in my brain.
If the scars would gracefully
Slide off of my wrists.
And yet, the backstory persists.
If the world was kind enough
To make me tea.
If it would shelter me in blankets
And not flee.
If it would say that I did good,
That I did well.
It would be nice,
If the world was kind enough.