The dim presence in the back of the room will take a liking to the shadows on the wall
Faint noises are made from the strainious efforts of the fallen lights
The sounds erupt, presenting themselves as eerie screams
but with a sense of focus they're nothing more then struggling breaths

All will be found, though to be found implies that at one point we were lost
And to be lost means that we have had a place, and have strayed from it

The voices echoing meanings beyond myself
Screeching that it's only natural to diversify my future
But yet I look at the horizon at a vertical angle, the invisible mouths of my tormentors/my friends/ agape--
Stunned I'd let my mind ponder such insolence

The sky was always meant to be an outlet, yet to me it's just another ceiling
Leaving my room brings me to the other interiors of my house, which in turn, is just a bigger room with borders
Leaving my house brings me to the outside, an even bigger room
It may feel open, but we all understand it's closed

The only way a singular person could breathe in without the worry of another's breath touching the insides of their mouth, reaching down their throat to make some form of impact on their weaker, more tender parts
Is if they didn't care for it to begin with

Eyes water when they're dry,
so blink a couple times before you tell me that you love me

The corroded edges of my fingers will stretch to meet a blank canvas so I can spread myself just a bit thinner
But I've been busy, so there is no blank space left to coat
Am I still considered strong, or is my flimsy will sided with my stubborn mind considered cowardly?

The tip of my tounge will always be more toxic then the back of my mind
But the lurking smiles near the edge of my skull will find a way to burrow deep into anything they touch
So hopefully they won't traverse to the shallow portions of my skin and find a way to word themselves through my lips or features

Just as brightness invites darkness, darkness swallows up the contestants for the most dreary song
The stages floor has just been waxed, so if you're a fraud, please understand the risks
Falling into this croud will fill what was once tired and lackluster, with a sense of grit and bitterness
I'm sorry

I really do wonder, maybe the shutters of the curtains are a way of communication
Is it really so bad to blind yourself in front of the masked folk?
Maybe showing them who you really are can spark some form of intrigue,
Or give courage to accept that pain is walked on in either path?

Then again...we already know that light brings heavy shadows
If barring our own proves this difficult...
...how could I succeed against the worlds?



© Marah Schneider