Scars

Worries worth a thousand times that gets you black, 
And all of the miles surrender to the end, 
The one on which you verge, the one whereat you flourished, 
But with the thought of how it will turn. 
And you sit and you wonder,
The nature of teething troubles that are built, 
The escape that you just can’t seem to find, 
The sleep that you can’t seem to catch. 
Locked in a room, 
And your gaze feels neglected by change, 
Counting the forests feathered by freedom, 
But desire ignites in waylays of your dusty mind, 
And you scream the rain away, 
Laugh it or live it, 
All the things you are. 
Don’t panic, don’t shiver, 
You’re dragging shoulders and you’re unraveling arms. 
Chest of yours is bouncing, the ice is winding down on your openings, 
Your eyes are meeting mist, the skyscrapers are crashing down, 
Drinking and drowning in the catalysts of forgetfulness, 
And your head is level with heaven, 
Sideways the crowds crown you a dance that bolsters your good sense. 
If you’re thundering wrongly, and you’re trundling softly, and afterward you’re laughing when you’re treading old spacey thoughts, 
You’re fine.