Chameleon
I am tired of this shell of a human I have become.
It is when the feeling arises in my chest and my eyes feel heavy, that I want to run.
I feel the need for a change.
I need to get out in order for growth.
A flower cannot bloom with pollution in the air, or a drought in its soil.
I feel like I am twelve again.
It is harbored in my chest.
I want to forget but I can't.
I am collapsing in on myself.