Clutter

[allthewayin]

Inanimate objects to numb the thoughts
Or stories of a person I was not
A stale stone that screams at me
Not telling me what to be

Trying hard to clear the webs
But the spiders keep getting fed
Comfortable in the darkest places
They maintain these broken faces

Boy wants to care and be kind
Man hides what he can't find
Let the hate boil through my veins
Feed the man with his own pain

Open field closes in on me
Dark forest lets me see
How will i be satisfied
Before the joy in me has died