Fallen

Flow past like the wind in my hair,

Going eighty miles an hour,

I scream,

Wishing for it to carry me faster,

Fly away from all this shit that the world is made of,

Disease, Suicide, rape, murder,

Wish it all to stop,

Want to feel the peace between my fingers,

Falling to the shattered ground like sand,

On a white beach I pray,

For the world to flow past like the wind in my hair,

Speeding faster than normal,

Nobody can stop me from what I want,

To achieve a more perfect dream than possible,

It’s what all beauty pageant contestants want,

A peaceful world that seems so close,

Going eighty miles an hour,

It all goes by in a blur,

The trees brown and green,

People mere faces that haunt my dreams,

Everything so distant, so far from reach,

The scream ripped from the very lungs that I use to breath,

The body that’s so bruised hurtled eighty miles forward,

To a future that looks bleak,

Broken and used like the pen in my hand,

Where the grass is black and the trees stand limp,

The wish that brings all forward like a stopped swing,

The little child that flies in the air,

This twisted world that is made up of all the shit that doesn’t belong,

Everything that should be cast away,

Dumped away like the garbage that should be on the curb,

Like grains of sand,

That slips so peacefully,

Away.