check, please!

Wrapped around achieved goals, I am cooked. I have slept in one room inside my head, on an old white copperhead floor. Though I have not packed, the gallery of awkward thoughts flash be forth me. Immortal and absolute the infant shouts, “be calm! And allow desperation to assert it’s self.” The face in the mirror is still, in a sort of a portrait manner. Given time I will travel for the first time through that glimpse and swirl, somehow even indomitably of a boy, past the half-open door, but where? Cursed with a platinum spoon and the silver cup sitting on the cleared dining-room table beneath the clouds light, I leave it empty. Courage had never answered my calls. Blackened by the freedom and peaceful and ever defying perfection, this place has gotten to me. Only remembering the good times and steady laughs. ‘Even my clothes!’ loud and outraged to a perfect fit has felt ever so rubbish. Each heart pulse is rewarded with each breath it captures. ‘When will my heart stop?’ I realize now that there was less and less of the cry’s, the screams and the nightmares and terror, which for me had never existed anyway. I want change. Still heavy, these chains are not equipped to coming off anytime soon, as innocence has filled my soul. If truth had just opened its pours for a little mistake, I would eat it in front of him. The strange man with endless hands controlling our beliefs allowing hope to linger. My stomach creaked with the lack of saturated fat, for I was starving myself from health. A soothing yet complicated correction has acknowledged error. But the only satisfaction I could get was from watching myself escape. I had said too much. I can feel his claws and furious jerks, sickening me so that I couldn’t balance or even keep track of time. He made a flash and dip, and hardly even broke the rhythm, but I heard his tune. He exists, therefore I am his.