.i want to tell you,i still build my life on blocks of your moulded thoughts.

The knots you held my thin body in,are falling apart, in the pit you call my stomach,like slipping spaghetti in bitter sauce..i want to tell you,i still build my life on blocks of your moulded thoughts...i hope your hope finds my walls still standing...i walk into my life through a closed door,always staring through a dark window...smelling the cement of your optimism through my clogging nose, you are a cheek i wet at night when the ghost of sunshine disappears into thin air, like rehearshed musicians playing in a floppy play ,we flop into misery behind heavy curtains of weeping eyelids,when my life is a dimming firefly i chose not to follow, in a forest a compass loses direction,will my mother's hands turn low the volumes that hum my soul into a lullaby of eternal sleep,turn me to truths ...