Dystopian

The dark tightens strings in the night of lost notes I didn’t write
Couldn’t sing, never sent
Revenge, repent, but not defend
Cochineal smothers my sleeve, try to breathe with each heartbeat
Letting go of each bullet hole
Coming home asking for more

Clipped wings doesn’t mean we’re broken
Realist is not dystopian
(Are our words all we have left?)
There’s lifе outside a cage
Love, hurt, beauty, and rage
(Are these words all we have left?)

You still thunder as it breaks, lightning cracks but can’t escape
Shadows slide open wide
A brief aside before we collide
Chemicals coalesce blend silhouettes to confess
Blank slate, amalgamate
Hungers sate in brighter days

Clipped wings doesn’t mean we’re broken
Realist is not dystopian
(Are these words all we have left?)
There’s life outside a cage
With love, hurt, beauty, and rage
(Are these words all we have left?)

It’s so quiet with no one here
Mellow noise between the ears
A millstone with your name
Engraved round my neck in twelve frames
Moving all jerky and slow but we barely know
So, let’s go
(We want out! We want out!)

Clipped wings doesn’t mean we’re broken
Realist is not dystopian
(Are our words all we have left?)
There’s life outside a cage
Love, hurt, beauty, and rage
(Are these words all we have left?)