As breaking daylight shines 'pon windowsills and pillow clouds sail by my eyes with stormy fog, there comes a yearning for clarity had power.
Power? To take that which abandoned such possibilities back into arms of openness. Of course, this would be foolish, but due to blurry facts and stumbling thoughts, I appear to fade into the same darkness of months past. Is it identical? To someone outside the glass box, they would say yes. But I, who know the whizzing complexities, see a stronger reflection. Who has the power to push me down? Who has authority to think all that I've ever been and ever will be is just plain not good enough. How dare they. How dare those fools who see right past the solid colors. I am a dove. Renewed, hopeful, free. Pure with the sun rays displaying my cotton complexion.
I hate the world and here I am. That glazed vision tends to wish away what could have been and yet I linger. Is it glazed? Am I really stuttering the words or are they there right inside my mind of quotes that phrase me better?
Yes, it's true. And for certain, it is shameful. I suppose uncertainty and inexperience is that which plagues me. SWEAR the lies I make up within my head...are false? Is it really as horrible as I make it out to be? I hate these questions. Almost as much as I hate the fact that you can't even dial my life in.
Take a moment. Look along your walls. I hate your uncertainty
hate
hate?
I may believe myself as one who keeps falling and keeps fighting the voices. But now I think i'll decide to just keep flying. Fly away from all that damages important ground. I'm going to keep flying
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