Flood

Am I supposed to think inside your box?

Then I wouldn’t get outside of mine

You think you can control me?

Hold me?

Entrap my inner being?

No.

I refuse.

I will not.

Who do you expect me to be?

Her? Or maybe her? Or her?

They’re cloned.

Am I supposed to hide behind that artificial mask they call makeup?

Makeup. To make up. Fabricate. Fabrication. Lies.

I will not be another number.

Another clown face.

Don’t think for a second that I’m staying around to watch you – them – you all

Implode.

Something’s coming

Maybe reality?

Maybe compassion? Sacrifice? Chivalry? Honesty? Sincerity? Nobility?

Love?

I don’t know.

I seek to find out.

When it comes and takes your people in its flood,

You will have no army.

And I. Will be strong.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741