quicksand (threat unseen).

[rewiiired]

A horrible maybe
turns me red and then
turns me blue
but am I just insane
for believing in this,
in you?

So many things I've
seen and experienced
left me sad, scared,
confused and furious

hating them,
hating me,
hating you
belonging nowhere,
always on the run
but no hiding place
to scurry to

and every day I
find myself
staring into space,
lost in the gray,
shuddering before
the threat,
the sight unseen
by their eyes.

Smelling
the storm coming,
the thunder of
the Change rumbling.

Wanting to scream,
as the ugly duckling,
that the sky is falling,
but I'm choking
and I'm a little chicken
running from
a way of life that's not
here to stay,

scared shitless of
the children of the change
with wild, wizened eyes
peircing through to
the depths of my mind,
dragging me down to
the fated mirror
where it's all darker
but so much clearer

and my will is the blade that
cuts through the pain
but I can't look away,
and I'm lost to blinking
unable to blind myself
to what I'm seeing.

You keep on returning,
but I keep on breathing
dragging my feet and
romantically bleeding

as I try to soak up
what I can
and keep low to the
ground made of
quicksand...