You stop me from seeing. And I can’t force my eyes upon such a blankness any longer. It’s getting frustrating, although I know I have made promises. Promises regarding what to do and what not to do, what to see and what to ignore, what to let flow into oblivion or let drown in it, sucked by the waves. But right now I’m not sure I’m still comfortable with you and your obscurity. Your shallowness. You’re too eager to keep me blind, to unfold every thought I might have about every color or bright light. And I hate bright lights, they injure my eyes. But you hurt them too. And they start to succumb back into the orbits, touching my brain and the cells start to push and maybe I’ll lose my eyes. Because of you.
You stop me from talking as well. I know I promised I’ll be silent, but this is breaking my lips and I can’t lose my lips. They’re dry and I’m thirsty and I need to scream or at least to pronounce a few words, or maybe some syllables only so as to prove to myself that I can talk, again. Losing my mouth will make the words push against my brain. And it won’t put up with this and I’ll be losing them too, like the birds I held in my hands and lost out of nothing. Out of your bare, thick promises and got me nothing in return. I wasn’t expecting for anything in return. Regardless, I was waiting.
And now you won’t stop. And it’s my fault and no one sees this, as we’re both buried under billions of footsteps and basements, under the graves and the coldness outside, away from any sun and any tremenduous earthquake and drum rhythms. I wanted my chaos, but now it must turn back into my utopic nightmare. And you stay away, you keep blind and silent until I call you again.
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