Oh Free Fall

i'll run far far away.

you often find yourself

in the dark corner of your room

with the curtains drawn

and the doors, locked

desperately, desperately

keeping the world out

and caging yours in

it is when you dream

to draw a sun

a moon, clouds and stars

cut it into different shapes

and paste it in your makeshift sky

it is when you dream

to write

and write some more

until the paper is blotted,

bleeding, flowing of ink

and tears

you ask yourself why

you always find yourself

sulking, quiet, solemn

you fail to answer

and imagine of something else

something random

something irrelevant

you imagine a character

and being them

being them; perfect and cool

but you stare across the room,

where a mirror

sat staring back

and you think

you think of how awful, how wrong

it is to want to yearn

for something impossible

you shift your eyes

and it travels to the window

covered, secluded

you patiently wait

for anything to happen

but nothing does;

nothing ever will

so you dream again

and dream some more

and think

that there, right where you sit

in your own private solace

is a paradise

so much farther

and brighter

and better

than the reality of the actual space,

the actual place

where you rot

and forever

just dream