I see myself running from you.  I ran out of questions to your answers.  I see myself cradled by walls that exceed towards the Mesosphere, and you behind open doors.  I rely on, as a solution, that maybe tomorrow is worth taking advantage of.  I see myself angry with you.  Anger which has been left over for decades, steadily gaining exhaust as my body grows weary.  I see myself frustrated by your shortsighted breaths and knocked by another setback.  In a crowded room, it's just me who is speechless.  I see myself nourished at the faultlessness of my own voice because after talking to these walls, these walls cannot talk back.  Only God has given me deliverance and I was appointed to him. I see myself drinking fine whine, toasting alone on a day that falls once a year in June.  I'm not taking my oppression out on you, you couldn't take my oppression out of me.  I see myself lying next to you.  I take it hard to sigh as my lungs tighten.  I see myself as you failed to do so.  My responses went from without exception to limited, then my cries were obtained to a morning without dawn. You have so much to say... now that I am gone.


I see myself sitting up on the bed, digging a hole into the wall after another nightmare.
As I see myself, I am.