jammed breaks and a broken clutch

by 20:30 0 comments

I’m always locked in a room, large enough for only myself and I'm always running and sometimes I wish I wasn’t running as fast or as much. Sometimes I wish I could look at myself in the mirror and see who I really am, not just the crossroads of a road that I’m standing in the centre of. There are no red lights here, only go’s. It’s the kind of chaos that refuses to listen to me and I keep saying the same words over and over and over again, hoping it’d hear the urgency of a heartbeat in my syllables. But all I get are jammed breaks and a broken clutch, in a car speeding off a bridge. The bridge I refused to scribble my name on, as a kid because I didn’t have enough crayons to engulf its darkness in its entirety. I refuse to listen to the universe call out my name in the middle of the night. I’m not walking back home, tiptoeing on ash and glass. today, I’ll stay a bit and remind myself why I ever wanted to.

//jammed breaks and a broken clutch



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