i dream of a day when i am no longer bound to all the bullshit in my head. when visions are clear and i can choose the good over the need to be seen in a certain light. one day i will embrace the gift with out critiquing what is wrong and right. but that time isn't now. hatred, doubt and insecurity plague me by the hour. demonic voices hold the broken fun house mirrors and tell me stories laced with lies. i see beauty in the shattered and fear in the tender hearted and my mind run circles of crazy. the broken spaces scream out for restitution as the image consultants throw them in the back closet and hide. i run through the tall grass and tired trees looking for chemical means of escape. your image and presence are the gun and the bottle. you are the bullet in this mental game of russian roulette. click, click, click two steps away from sanity am i. should have ran naked through the streets ages ago so that now in my old age i wouldn't feel the need or loss of youthful expression. the ache and subsequent need to numb is so great i willingly take anyone into myself just to calm the burning for a while. i would chase you down and implode our world if i could.