this lovely winter’s day

please god, if you’re up there, you have to hear me. have reach your hands through the frosted glass and free me from this hell, because i don’t know how much longer i can stand to rot away in a cold, metal cell…

listening from afar, on this lovely winter’s day, while you walk around with your perfect little family, and argue about politics. because in your idyllic world, everyone gets a say.

so i’ll try to pipe up, my speech slurred, and filled with shivers. but the movies lied, didn’t they?

this is what growing up is all about. isn’t it? nothing to do with late night drives, and new responsibilities. or feeling okay.

and everything to do with learning how to let myself down, day after day…

so… i’ll let them laugh at me. let them snap pictures; arrange my screams into a grotesque bouquet.

as i call out desperately. because maybe it’s pointless, but isn’t that just what you have to do? even as your voice begins to fray…

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