gliding toward the gilded cage with artful grace
effort barely exerted
as I become my own jailer
sounds of footprints as elusive as evidence from a ghost hunt
glide, wide-eyed optimism replaced with dull dark circled sockets
Sweeney Todd seems more innocent than me sometimes.
As I crack the whip at my heels, memory stain replays from my brain.
glide, no matter how hard I try some things just cannot go away.
Always a trace of the bitter agony mixed with an indifferent air.
Nestled snugly between God and granite counter tops
What to believe as I throw away the bible and worship Mr. Clean?
glide, whipped into a frenzy of peace a withering yard stick losing inches
Frozen at the raging words uttered from once friendly lips
glide into a gentle storm that rips away my will
yielding to a glide