I yearn for Control; for stability for one's self worth
As bull as it may sound, the light of every cigs granted me just that
A trick of the mind some may say, and true it might be however, Fire Away
I yearn for Freedom
The freedom to imperfections
To be released from such binding chains of expectations
To be released from the images people painted, in their minds a portrait
A portrait of a person they'd like me to be; a subject to their delusions
I yearn for Liberation
from all the anger, the frustrations
the faults I never committed
the ghosts too stubborn to leave
the sadness, the loss
EVERYTHING
mixed in one oversized flask like a bad case of chemistry-gone-wrong
just waiting to explode
Guess what?
Every swig of every **** liquor
The lulling sweetness
The bitter taste
The burn
Granted me just that
The illusion of freedom and limited taste of Liberation
Alas, both grantors became difficult to part with
If I'm to design imagery of all that said
It will be a dancing silhouette of my *******
Filling up the entire vicinity above heads
At the break of dawn and by each
Setting sun
To serve
As a quiet but clear Statement to my devoted audiences;
"Perfection. Is far beyond me. Expect the worst, give me chance
to eff up too"