I think I’m going to like it here, these faces I see watching me have eyes like rain water
I want to collect them, dripping into a cup until it’s cavern is caressed by my breath
I believe if I drink every last drop I’ll be able to feel movement again
I think every lamp post represents something missing
I want to find remnants of memories I’ve long ago forgotten
I believe if I shine a light bright enough I won’t be so focused on what’s in front of me
I think that’s what I want
I want to think I can think
I believe I used to think I knew what I wanted

Most days, these walls mock me
My supposed triumphant efforts are knocked breathless by bashing cackles
Chained, my name echoes ankles strangled in shackles
I was taught to walk in a straight and narrow line
I’ve failed every lesson