and there is an explosion in my chestthis swirling emotion this cry of wild thats kept impounded by dictation of society for the sake of 'normalcy' for the sake of the comfort, of not myself but those around me
...when the truth is inside were all burning we're yearning for this thing this beast to be released for this heart to run free in the chill of the night for the rush of the hunt for the catch of our breath as we plummet from rocky peaks
we're dying inside all chains and shackles thinking that if only once in a while we allow ourselves an anorexic portion of what is the thrill of our existence we'll survive. but thats not survival that's the screenplay romance (all bullshit and roses) of society vs. our soul cry and we listen because that thing inside us is the core of our uncertainty, the crux of our compulsion for all things beautiful (and therefore dangerous) we suffocate the creature for out of its mouth comes the hardships of the wild. risk. a life without backup plans. the opportunity of failure.
but therein lies the death of our true nature