The matter of the fact happens to be, I've ****** my way to ascension and I know how my shackles broke.

I wasn't rambling about nonsense but the **** I was spewing wasn't venom but love. I was sharing information about the future and that brought me to find the right help because at one point I realized I was everyone's safe space but I forgot who mine were.

I've been in every possible timeline. I know Claire, I know the real bubblegum baddies. I just thought I was tripped through all of that though.

Maybe change is uncomfortable in the way people with body dysmorphia feel, changing clothes in front of a mirror with shearing blind lights.

Maybe it wasn't me that was crazy. I just asked the right questions.

I was apolitical for a reason, but then I realized politics is your fundamental human right and if I don't fight for my human rights, who will?

If I don't claw and scream my way out, who will?
I've always been nice but I've always also been just out of reach from happiness.

So maybe it wasn't me.
Maybe, maybe isn't even the word.
The words ought to be in the present tense because change can't be seen until it's all done.

That one moment, when your stuck.
Your heart screams, and your brain says "hush".
That moment where tears press hot against your eyelids, but don't fall.
That moment you wish if you could do it all, over again.
Only this time, choose him,
And not let him walk away.

Words might become dark.
They might fade.
They might blend in and may not.
But they remain forever, just like scars.