CHAOS

I breath chaos—

lungs filled with cigarette butts of burned dreams

Ash coating my ribs as my heartbeat cracks.

Hope is a charred matchstick I can never ignite again.

Rusty handcuffs over chaffed wrists—

I'll wear it like chosen tattoos.

Can’t say it though.

Can’t speak what clogs my throat

Because when I do, they'll slit it.

So I pin my shadow to my spine—

To the clothes always orange, and disappoint my father like I always do.

He promised me cigarettes for good behavior,

but he always found in cuffs for stealing them.

Always asking, why?

Why?

3 letters I'll never have the answer too.

I’m not a boy.

Not a man.

Just chaos from inside out.

I can't change my heartbeat.

I can't change the air I breathe.

I can't change the orange cloths they give me .

I can't ignite a charred matchstick— the fire they took from me.

But I don’t tell them.

They don’t believe me.

Neither do I.

So I bury the Why.

Keep breathing stolen ash and chaos

Where it can’t hurt anyone

But the wrists in cuffs

And the spine trapped in orange.

#noworriesImfine