Again

All that thing has ever given me were scars and bad rhymes, I truly don't have a rational reason to fly back, Nevertheless, there have been so shamefully countless times When a hazy flash of a memory forced me to pack.

I don't want to plummet down a skyscraper built from glass, Ruin myself for a split second of satisfaction. Why am I acting as if life's a test I'll never pass, Making sweet daydreaming my only impassive action?

I have to pause, turn around and then walk by in a daze, Pretending to be blind and ignorant to save my soul. Words like sparks - which can only lock me in a darker maze, I could be shattered, yet I have to escape and turn whole.