Tell me that I'm overreacting but what if it really hurts? Am I crazy to fight for my right to say? Right to say something that I will never apologize for?

Am I crazy for hiding my thoughts from your prying knife? I must hold on to my, secrets for they fuel my being, my passion.

Do you wish to see the things you hate, to pull on the flood gates until they open, drowning you in the power held behind them?

Let me hold onto my secret misery, my forbidden love. Let me keep the last thing I cling to. Give me my life, let me live.

Let me hold my secret worlds away from your greedy hands. My source of life will not give you any. You don't know the feeling to let loose. You fear the things and places I love. Alleyways filled with dark, smoky strangers: full, pregnant stomachs hiding life beneath: tattoos. Violet. Violet is your worst fear. Forbidden love, something that you pretend doesn't exist at all.

For something you own to have the thing you fear. The fear that confines you in repeating thoughts, endless streams of what ifs. Locked in your steel prison, unable to see no different.

I will slip out unnoticed, to run away to my forbidden love. You will never see, you are blind.