Absent thoughts within our mind, caress the soul deep into blind. As luck would have it we are free, but not without uncertainty. We stop by night to think the world, yet not in sleep but lie here curled within the bed and into stars they set us free but are the bars. Bars that only us they hold, bars of which are never told to the ones we love and those we fear, and those of whom we beg would hear. Chemical our thoughts together, can we call ourselves good weather, that will block out the sky in all of her glory, and tear down the lies of our own stories? We are here, will you not listen? We hold you dear, the past that’s risen.