And you dream,
and you try,
but, you're still not alive.

Then you close off again,
and you go home,
and you cry,
and you want to die.

Warning yourself against letting
those crippling pulsions,
begging you to run off
to your window, and jump,
or up the streets, and wait,
or walk to your kitchen and
let its blades take over,

You fall down on your bed
with a loud thump,
and drift off to wonderland
and smile
until your nightmares begin
and nothing stays as purple for you,
EVER AGAIN.


All rights reserved @Aurelia Lucina-13/07/2019