Feel the hush of my movements
and the scream of my stillness,
I cannot remain motionless
or I will drive myself insane
I would rather drive myself
off the edge of the cliffs
down the street from my house
where the sun reflects off
their orange-red craters
before shining like crystals
in the crevasses of the water
I would rather drown than
spend one more day
watching the walls peel paint
I would rather the steering wheel
crush my lungs under my rib cage
than let my feet rest in these shoes
without lifting off this pavement
in a sprint that hurts my lungs
more than metal and pressure
I would rather crack my head open
and let my gray matter heat in the sun
than let my mind turn to mush
thinking of the same things
over and over again in this dull -
possibly fantastic -
life.
Because I could be doing things
that can make a person think
I could be doing things
that can change a perspective
I could be influencing a whole culture
but I'm stuck between four walls
that are going to crush me
before I can even crush myself;
I can already feel my throat filling
with salty water and sand,
I can already feel my lungs deflating
and screaming under the weight of gravity,
I can already feel my brain cooking
void of any thoughts that may have existed before.
I would rather orchestrate my own demise
than watch my stationary position
do it for me.