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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required So take your rose colored glasses off And see this battle for the withered tulip it really is There is no leaving this town, It's got the best heights to fall from And the best milestones to lose sight of Where limits are as high as the sky But just as ever-changing And the angels are ever-dangling From the chains soldered together by a force I call imposed dead weight As they pray for my intelligence to infiltrate But this is not about my mental escape! Remember, I already over-contemplated it And realized it wasn't as important as mending fences with you Restrictions bore me And It's such an anomaly that I’m still standing here, With a cunning smile and a barrel loaded with confidence Despite every shot I took at the target and missed And playing hard to get used to galvanize me But now it just underwhelms me And it’s such an anomaly that the justification I forced down my throat Did not infiltrate But you're the devil's advocate with fire in your eyes to this debate It's not life or death if living on is just as much of a scar And i've already gotten this far into the void Escaping existentialism With a lantern in hand and a dissipation of your static to ground myself with But let's reconvene after the sedation wears off It makes everything too fuzzy and maybe that's why I couldn't see the logic in your argument But let's reconvene after the high from you wears off It makes everything too dizzy and maybe that's why I couldn't see the love in your argument Your body language is molded out of secret code Every movement makes the air feel cryptic and I'm betting that you heard the shift in tone from my hello to my goodbye But it's hard to shed a tear When you're leaving in steps, leaking fear I’ve f-ed around with safety but restrictions bore me It's hard to shed a tear when your body is an hourglass, but the hand that does the flipping is a physiological extension of a shared enemy named fear An eye witness but the shock won’t let him hear An orchestra conductor, but every graze of hair to string just sounds like mental wounds beginning to adhere But your symphony just sounds like animals dying Cause my ears are tuned to hear a note off key when you prevaricate The bags under your eyes remind me of the circles lining tree trunks, Each one marks another year of suffering senses and another candle on the cake What scares me is when only a month passes And it genuinely feels like a year But It's hard to shed a tear when you're retreating and isolating In a room lit by a dying flashlight, That I call false hope You're a hand built submarine with duct tape on all the bullet holes You're a glass vase in the middle of a storm; Struggling to keep balance With a knack for bad timing And I know now that I was never an exception Everything including me was just bad timing But it's an anomaly I'm here Sedation free with an inner monologue that's a hundred times nicer to me I'm not shaking cause I'm cold, I'm shaking out of need for relief With this ball and chain, I’ve been flirty but restrictions bore me Did you really think I'd tether myself to you even now? How ironic of you to be a god in such disbelief
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