5-30-18 I.T.J.T
I wish I could speak. I wish I could look directly at you and lay out everything going on so you could repair me. No one can really know what's portrayed behind glass. Sometimes I wish I could take a mallet and crumble this glass house. Let you suffer through insecurities just so I could feel not alone in this plastic world. Till you grab my hand and help me torch barbies house until puddles and purses line hallways where everything that's pretend is revealed and there lies truth in bed with sin. And I could watch them undress themselves shamelessly. Unstitching the seams of our reality. Unteaching our brains. Pulling out of normality. But too bad my hands are bloodied from the glass and you ran to built another with tinted glass this time.
