thorns penetrating my soft, innocent skin, vines suffocating me.
vines suffocating me
this harsh current fighting my every move
restricting my individuality.
i always find a way to let my words out through my puppets with strings,
yet, i cannot make these roses dance.
broken and withered away from this winter grip,
there is no life in these branches
no color, no emotion, no strings
for me to weave my way out with.
imprisoned, my art has no values.
i have no room for my puppets to perform.
my passion shortened and smooshed just like my legs that are forcibly intertwined with each other.
Get me out of this God **** bush.
Jan 26
Jan 26, 2026 at 9:44 PM UTC
thorns penetrating my soft, innocent skin, vines suffocating me.
vines suffocating me
this harsh current fighting my every move
restricting my individuality.
i always find a way to let my words out through my puppets with strings,
yet, i cannot make these roses dance.
broken and withered away from this winter grip,
there is no life in these branches
no color, no emotion, no strings
for me to weave my way out with.
imprisoned, my art has no values.
i have no room for my puppets to perform.
my passion shortened and smooshed just like my legs that are forcibly intertwined with each other.
Get me out of this God **** bush.