Breaking the chains.

I feel like I’m choking, the air around me seems cloudy as I try to fight my way out. I smile at you hiding the fact that I feel like I’m suffocating inside. All I want is for you to notice, for you to care, everything feels like its weighing me down. I want to cry, I want to scream but for some reason I can’t. I want to yell at you, to punch something to just expose the raw side of me but I’m scared of losing the only thing I really care about. My legs feel weak, my body frail, my heart feels like its slowly shattering. My once bright wings feel like their clipped and chained. I look at the floor with my feet shackled, all I do is nod and agree. How is that a life? How is that living? My face feels like a mask, my soul feels empty. I just want to live, to thrive, and to just do something. I want to tear these chains and escape. The feeling of being stuck in a cage is something I have felt since I was young. Please just a helping hand, I wish to be free. Let me fly, soar the blue skies and be free. I want to express my fears, my ambitions, my love, my anger. When did expressing myself become such a hindrance? Sometimes it feels like your hands are clasping around my throat, my spirit slowly dying off. I grit my teeth just trying to be “perfect” to be the person you want. But I want to be me. When did becoming myself become an embarrassment? When did being an individual become such a chore? Is my life simply structured from a pecie of paper? I want to feel the rain against my face again, run around in fuzzy socks across the floor. I want to really laugh, where I hold my sides bellowing out snorting. I want to jump in a puddle, covered in mud. I want to run through the forest tripping over roots. When did it become a situation where we all had to be proper, and “ civilized?” I don’t want to become a civil person. I would rather be crazy, and uncontrollable. I want to eat a bunch of sweets till I feel sick. To spin in a chair till I fall off. Sit on a mattress and go down the stairs. Sing off key in the middle of a street, talk to random strangers. When did I stop becoming me? When did I stop having fun? When did becoming myself make you ashamed? I honestly could care less anymore. I am sorry but i wish to live. If you wish to just close your eyes and walk past the crowd and become just like everyone else then fine. I enjoy my unstructuralized self. I enjoy being a dork and making a fool. Because you know what? I am Living.