[Spoken Word]

An early conviction, which has left me bound, tied by strings and held down

Unable to see the falsehood in intangible solids

Reminds me of the walls that surround a prisoner

His vision accustomed to viewing the world from inside barred windows through cold steel doors

Never remembering the intense beauty of a sunset

Or getting to feel it’s loving and nurturing warmth softly kiss the skin

A fiery-red, through a filter which has so effectively captured harshness, hatred, and rage

Fills his corneas and sit ever so lightly above a revealing color coating

Still burning, stinging the sights of anything he lays eyes on, until his eyes run

And now soft tears

In an ocean-like blue, with such depth that shallow ends seem to be non-existent

Through a filter that was there with him for every betrayal

Every moment

If only he could show them behind the grayness which casts a shadow above the chin and below the forehead

If only he can remember those times as a kid he had had with his mother

If only he could remember what it is was all like before living through the filter, you bitch