I don’t want to remember,
this last month of November.
Gouge it from my eyes,
carve it off my lips,
scrub it from my soul.
You see,
the moon rests high,
while the tides pulled low
and waiting for that change
merely hardens the soft blow.

I feel that I need to ask to live my life
I feel that I need to ask to do what I want
I feel that I need to ask to go where I want
I feel that I need to ask to be the person I want to be
I feel that I need to ask for my own space
I feel that I need to ask for forgiveness; even though I've done nothing wrong
I feel that I need to ask to speak
I feel that I need to ask to see
I feel that I need to ask questions
I feel that I need to obey all the rules
I feel that I need to be fake to certain people
I feel that Im being watched
I feel that Im being spied on
I feel that Im being threatened
I feel that Im being judged
I feel that Im being yelled at too many times
I feel that Im a prisoner
I feel that Im a puppet on strings
I feel that Im a dog on a tight, strict leash
I feel that Im a butterfly without her wings
I feel that Im a monkey in a cage; waiting to be unleashed
i feel the need to tell people off
I feel the need to get revenge
I feel the need to defend myself
I feel the need to yell back
I feel the need to confront certain people
I feel the need to hospitalize myself...
Because I dont think Im allowed to breathe