We created all of this.
We thought our needs
had called for it.
Convinced ourselves to eat the lie
and drink the tears of suicides.
The look in our hollow eyes,
like stickmen stuck
in better times.
We thought we won,
but then we died,
with voices raised up to the sky.
I woke from dreams
I thought were mine,
afraid I might have lit the fire
that burned the world clean of desire,
now black and grey
my memory’s pyre.
I climbed up high,
stretched out my arms
and begged God to
erase the scars
of life that I had lived to die.
I reached my hands
up to the sky.
To catch the clouds,
to save my soul;
I stepped off into the unknown.
We created all of this.
We dreamed for it to exist.
We didn’t know
and didn’t care,
we tied the rope
and kicked the chair.
For those who try their hardest
and win
are the Escape Artists.
I’m reaching up
past what I see,
don’t ask me to let go.
I’m holding on
to something that I’ve never known.
This paradise we made was all a lie
and I don’t plan to die here,
trapped inside.
I’ll pick the locks,
I’ll scale the walls,
I’ll step off stage,
next curtain call.
I’ll shake my chains,
I’ll disappear,
between heartbeats
and you will know that I was here,
by how I escaped into the sky.
I will leave behind
an Exit sign.
HG – 2017
Reblogged this on Hokus Grey and commented:
Found a picture from last year that I thought fit this piece. – HG