It's funny when you need someone to be free.
When the steering wheel isn't liberation,
when you spot smiles from your so-called friends,
and they only put you on pins and needles,
when every word you release must walk the tightrope of judgement,
as starving eyes wait on tradgedy.

It's hard to stay happy when your lover isn't around.
When all the guilt and high crimes circle like vultures,
when your distant relatives keep asking, "are you sure you're okay?"
When everyone paints you as bitter and self-loathing
because you want life to mean much less than this.

It's the memories tying us together.
"Soon" becomes the lifeline, the encourager.
Future prophecies of coffee, blankets, catnaps,
bad movies, and late night discussions subdue the hours.

So,
I'm sorry if I seem coarse.
I'm sorry if I seem vengeful.
But terrible thoughts abound,
when my freedom is away.