{...the color of cry...}

I am planted here devouring the contours of the maze I created.

With every piece I squeeze the tranquility and become ill-fated.

 

crunch...

crack...

and a good ol’ smack...

 

Salivating to the sight of another stationary divide.

Blood-filled tears streaming to witness the beating.

The color of cry.

Hysterical raptures I deem appropriate.

I confide.

These walls will come down.

Letting loose from the insides.

 

This maze of mazes are my contemplations.

Agenda filled notations digesting the mind.

The crawling critters of neurological transmitters.

Destroying their finds.

 

One by one.

Capped away.

One by one.

Insecurities fade.