I can not make myself any more adherent to this will,
i can not force myself to be myself, i am experimental
growing tired, of the ride, had dreams of sitting with you
cars, going down an invisible, off ramp over town,
and bridges,fiercely twisting.
refugees in the kitchen, and friends asking questions, people
in disguise, as other people with the same impressed stereotypes
but i could not hide, away from all that binds,
me to that reality, in my mind.
