[Anarchy-Mist]

I took the same ones. I didn't start over. I changed my routines. Yet I didn't stray. I breathed life. I didn't steal it. I reclaimed my space. Yet I didn't tighten my grip. I even changed course! And forgot everything. I changed my mission. Disturbed every prayer in every dusty grimoire. Nothing worked. She must rise up. She must rise up.

Then I got scared. But I stayed. I became obsessed. But I let go. I listened to what he said. I couldn't dance. I smashed plates. Mistook my errors for guiding lights. Burned his police reports. Tamed my resentment. Nothing worked. She has to rise up. She has to rise up.

And I dread her strained, empty smile so much. I fear her excesses. I loathe her passions. Her cold fingers gripping me. Her mistakes lying in wait for me. Her overripe quality. Her indecent posture. Her eyes that pierce right through me. I am afraid of her. Of everything she says about me. I fear she will chain me, and that I, in turn, will have to chain others. But nothing works.