the reason i watch for the small things is because,
you may not know it, but when I walk home from work in the middle of the road, I’m seeing things as if i may never see them again because I don’t know where my mind is taking me.
I spit my prayers through grit teeth, it’s forced from my guardian's mouth when she looks through my feed and texts and tweets at night to fuel her (sometimes) self righteous ego and maintain control over my life.
when she read through my sketchbook that one morning, all i can now see are her invisible fingerprints on the page. I can’t see my words the same because there was a crime.. trespassing into my mind, even though i can’t let myself in. but I’ve changed my passcode and you’re too sloppy to realize that I know what you’re doing.
i’ve changed my locks and committed mental suicide with that key that I swallowed
still inside.