With cement blocks attached
to your feet, drowning becomes deadly twice as fast;
life speeding away in a blur of color and sound
a cacophony of cultured fanaticism
spitting in the face of danger.
Live on the edge, teetering toward
a dangerous situation.
Your mind is no longer a safe haven,
your childhood, disintegrating
before your very eyes
(manipulation dressed as
normalcy tells you otherwise).
Your name is Bitterblue,
and his voice still rings in your head:
the trigger to countless nightmares.
Saved by a girl convinced of monstrosity,
rough around the edges, a core of kindness.
True love is platonic:
it saves from the racing thoughts.
Your mind is a frenzied fuzzy mess
but your future lights up so bright and golden.