fear to speak

melancholy 
swimming in a sea 
of alternate realities
and faded polaroids in a shoebox
buried beneath my smiles
as i reach out for something that's not there
yearning to be found 
but crashing down again 
failing to reach out
opaque windows
caked with dust
blocking the light 
withed and lonely 
i wait in the solitude
for somebody else
to repair the decrepit remains
of my haphazardly patched soul 
super-glued chinna
faded sweaters that smell like home
and truths to cowardly to make an appearance
fear that decimates what little courage i have left
tearing down my skimpy scaffolding of bravery 
and drowning my hopes in the terror
of not being loved by the people i care about
the tiny glimpse of freedom
ripped from my line of sight
by the brutal realization
that i will never fully know
unless i say something.