A smile only a knife would love, while my chains hold back shackled eyes with a laugh of a dissonant tortured sadness. Bewildered by my cage it never enfolds like a city ablaze. For i can never crash I am held up to witness beautiful disasters as I cry for cold beds. The doctors with their medicine and apologies. Trying to fix my problems, when really I want them.
Soon i begin to shake and my arms are free again, a freedom not to last to long, as feelings of nausea and illusions start. In these dizzy dreams i wonder will I stay or go back to unfaithful reality. With each pauseful thought the walls come closer, hoping that they crush me, but hoping is for times of open doors and no hallways. The doctors with their medicine and apologies. Trying to fix my problems, when really I want them.
They figured I am to different, not like the rest of them. When really they're the freaks trying to make a project out of me. Just stare at the wall and ignore all the illogical questions. And smile when they diagnose you with titles and affiliations.