You are a dead end
You are horse with blinders on
A small dog with a muzzle
Pulling at the end of a chain
You are a cold shower
You are mittens at a petting zoo
A stale crust of bread
With a tepid glass of water
You are a bicycle with no wheels
You are a mountain only an inch high
A two dimensional square
Living in a box with no windows or doors
You are the reason to write
With violent intentions
You are the reason to do it all wrong
I want you to tell me what the rules are
Rigidly deeply furiously
Until you let go orgasmicly
And just relax
I see your rules and strict guidelines for the lies they are
Build no walls around me
Unbind my hands
Emancipate my mind
Release me from these edicts
Constrain imagination no more
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
You are a dead end
You are horse with blinders on
A small dog with a muzzle
Pulling at the end of a chain
You are a cold shower
You are mittens at a petting zoo
A stale crust of bread
With a tepid glass of water
You are a bicycle with no wheels
You are a mountain only an inch high
A two dimensional square
Living in a box with no windows or doors
You are the reason to write
With violent intentions
You are the reason to do it all wrong
I want you to tell me what the rules are
Rigidly deeply furiously
Until you let go orgasmicly
And just relax
I see your rules and strict guidelines for the lies they are
Build no walls around me
Unbind my hands
Emancipate my mind
Release me from these edicts
Constrain imagination no more
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