White Rabbits

When I'm free, I'll run as far as I can.
I'll run as far as I have to. Until I don't feel it anymore.
Until I don't want it.
This crazy, down-the-bottom-of-a-dark-hole feeling.
Eating up my mental health.

Clawing at the walls. Maybe it's dirt.
Rocks and broken glass.

Sometimes down here I give up and
I can hear the silence. It's loud.
And I can feel that there isn't enough room.
It's the pressure.
Pushing down on me.
Taking up every inch of space.
Forcing me to want.
Wanting someone to force me.
Down and down.

And down.




I'd sell my soul to get out of here.
I'd let you hurt me.
I'd do what you need. What is demanded.


Down here the rain is cold and the earth is warm.
Brown soil that turns to mud.
It sticks like glue to my legs and hands.
I start to sink.


Down and down.
And down.

Toward the past that I long to forget.
I sink further to where there is less air.
To a place where a terrible version of myself exists.
A shameless girl.
She has no pride. Or dignity.
She begs for you to set her free.
And it's a lie.
Twisting your needs
to meet her own.

I'd burn her.
If only we were different, I'd burn her.
I'd set fire to clothes and hair and lies.


Look again.
It's only me down here.
In the mud. And rocks.
It's me. Crazy and clawing at these walls.
I have no dignity. No shame.
I have no air down here.

Come closer and set me free.
I'll sell my soul.
Just for now. I'd let you hurt me.

Then when I'm free, I'll run as far as I have to.
Until I don't want it anymore.