Just had nothing to say.
I picked through my fingernails. I remember my breath coming out in long, deliberate puffs.
Frustrated. Cornered. The words of a super lung running through my mind.
Soft, and unerring. Like a well practised kiss before bed.
The silence danced above us. Ludicrously flailing for attention.
Break me.
Dismiss me.
Make a god damn joke!
But there she hung.
I knew all my music would sound better on headphones,
or at eighty miles per hour.
Feelings would be brighter.
Words would be stronger.
Hurt would be bolder.
I could hardly wait.
I pleaded with the moment.
Offerings of guiltless humanity, and indifferent gods.
I imagined the final tick landing like a gavel.
Resounding with certainty, and absolution.
I'd be free to be someone else.
Free to breathe the fields.
Free. And not afraid to turn back.