Your voice. Your words.
Things that preach cacophonies
of glass shattering
waterfalls of broken things
never to be repaired
minds spiral into a fit
of uncontrollable laughter when
they hear you cry for help.
You are not the victim here,
nor were you, ever.
So stop the song and dance,
and don't quit your day job
for while you think you've changed,
and can fly higher now,
you'll go no where
weighed down by the things you've
gotten your heart tangled up in
transfixed on the idea of holding on.
But see that's the thing about
this world in which we're stuck
most of the things we think do us good,
are the things that slowly tear us down