the window pangs.

the wipers push away the rain.

i can accept the euphoria of it, my favorite thing.

but i'm still in pain.

i'm still broken.

and that will never change.

it's still there.

it makes me rip out strands of hair.

why the hell is it still there?

i'm now breaking down in the backseat with my brothers.

but my mother wont care.

hell, she'll laugh.

but still, the scars will remain.

and i'm still trapped in this birdcage of pain.