What right do I have
To feel sorry for myself
What right do I have
To be sad over petty things
Like how I’m insecure
Lonely
Bored
Lost
Afraid
When there are people out there
Facing greater pain than any human being deserves
Suffering beyond belief
In inconceivable circumstances
So what right do I have
To cry tonight

Colors of the ocean marbled with fire
Blending like paint, like waves, like flames
Delicately adorned with glistening dewdrops
Clouds of white and grey crying softly
A dome of peace, life, humanity
A cage shielding us from the world which lies beyond
Undiscovered
Unlikely
Unknown

Fingernails tapping
Teeth biting my cheeks
A pressure on my chest
Eyes darting around the room
I should probably breathe

At this point I can’t quite remember
The last time my mind was at ease.

They told me to pick up the knife
That with it I’d be able to cut the rope holding my throat to the ceiling
And break the chains keeping me to the ground
So I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal
Adrenaline as hot as fire pulsing in my veins
I didn’t let go
And I didn’t free myself
Instead I brought the silver blade to my heart
Carving the words I wanted to be engrained in me forever

They told me to pick up the knife
That with it I’d be able to break the chains keeping me to the ground
And cut the rope holding my throat to the ceiling
So I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal
Only to feel a sharp sting as hot fire poured from my palm onto the concrete floor
But I didn’t let go
Even though I had grabbed hold
Ever so tightly
Of the wrong end