The MAD Pt.3 "When Bindings Rupture"

Kelsey Amell
The smoke is rolling from the lips.
Standing alone amongst so many others
the trees break below the sub-zero.
Reminds me-
My vocal chords drying away.
The glossy glass of my eyes turn fogged
appearing tempered and smash
as they fall to the floor.
Completely aware, my feet become annihilated
dancing about the fallen shards.
Where will this path lead me?
My feet will soon cease to hold the weight, 
becoming sawed.
Do I want it all?

Maybe my fits of emotion are flying through the air
and the trees are telling me never to turn back,
so subliminal.
Though they inhabit my conscience,
their words are nothing more than an annoying crack.

All along it doesn't make sense.
I get it.
Convince myself of an imaginary life-
A sort of placebo of lies.
No, I can't read my own mind.
No, I can't read the open book beneath a runny nose-
Telling what's in it for me.