My cell phone's running away...

Everyone's always talking, Loudly... going on about all those little details that don't actually matter.

They're moving their lips; open, shut, open, shut, open shut, openshut, openshut. Moving in -words, food, fat, air poison, happiness answers... moving out- words, questions, knowledge my life, air poison, life their life...

They're greedy, with their perfectly lined up answers, ready to knock down my answers like bowling pins-pow, pow, pow.

Sometimes I'd like to ::Punch/Kick/Destroy/Ruin/Hurt/WatchThemBleed:: remind them to watch out. But they'd whip out another perfect line, fitting accordingly on my skin. They'd wait to watch the blood spill out, "Free at last! Free ast last!"; my reaction when I'm left unprepared. As if their angel blood is unlimited. As if they never get wounded.

But then I feel bad, because they're human, and why ruin perfection at it's best that?

No coruptions here, no ma'am.

Step back a few steps, and I realize I'm drowning in a pot of burning wax, too hot! And once I've cried out all my tears and every drop of water's evaporated, they'll pour me into a mold, cramming in every last bit of flesh and bone, while *I* hover next to the fire, anchored down, watching.

And the perfect follow the leader! me will step out, happy and contented, stuffing my greedy face with -words, food, fat, air poison, happiness answer... and then I'll move over so nextinline! can burn to a stub. Conformists, all of us. We're fixed! It's a bloody miracle!

But everything's aching like it's bruising under the skin, under the wax... it's been here for too! long. But we're quiet. Shh! Don't wake the voices... No, no we don't want THOSE again...

Shit.

They're back, with stronger words, like OBEY!, and SUPPORT!, and it's loud bowlingballcollidingwithpins! shouting. And we dig our nails into the candle wax... OOPS! that's our skin... But blood pours out? Weren't we one of THEM? No, not blood. That's us. Me!

And I'm all burnt, corners charred and folded, but you still love me, huh? Well I'm not trapped but the world is cold, and without my skin I won't grow old. I crave the fire you burn so bright, hand me the marshmellows, we'll bleed smile all night!