Box of Broken Dreams

Straightforward would be to shout, “I hate you, I hate you, just go away!”
Nice would be to say “Please help me, and leave me be.”
Passive aggressive would be to not say a thing, and spite you with talon eyes and watering teeth.
Escapist’s would write all day long, and wander away from the family farm.
Activists would go to the figures writing statements, burning all bridges and wandering into new sets of arms to fight against.
The right way would work it through, steadfast and humble
Going along all through the rubble and stringing up hope to come home, come home.

I would confuse and contusion your strength
Cunning and wild
Ravaging through all attempts every while.
Screaming straightly into the past melting your face and frying hope to ash.
Eacaping the devil and then shoving the heat right up your ass
I would activate your lust just to cry in the night
Sleepless and starved to be fucked raw and savage.
Later to lecture you on just how weak you are to the moods within
Spineless and awkward
Exercised to be a wimp and wandering drunkenly, opening up wormholes of baggage.

I tell us both that hate shall prevail
Just leave and find a home that is easy and normal.
Pick a way to believe and behave, and fight for that right, go forth and beseech
There is no you, no me, no us or way to be free.
Don’t wrap me up in a box that I will shatter
I will nicely say, I warned you and then scratch your being with the shrapnel.