Anchored

I'm convinced I purchased solitude somewhere along the line, and now it's mine. My receipt says I paid with anger and that they gave me to much change, so that explains. Depression is dripping from the ceiling, the carpet stained from what I've shed. Hand squeezing my forehead as I'm striving for breath, but there's no air left. Somehow shadows are different people and objects now have emotion. A plant and me are friends but words were spoken, when a door wouldn't open. My sanity is gravity and I'm floating away at a steady pace. As my chivalry so familiar to me ties me by the waist, I'm anchored in this place. -LIV

...and it goes....

The Ram, and the Bull - 
Two signs that mean we ramble
Stumble over words, and let your jealousy seep through


Hmm, So...Who thought- 
That I never knew
What the purpose was
Was it for me?
or was it for you?
Who led the path or 
who followed?
Was the light bright and clear
Or on that night, were the moons hollow?

Intake my breath
A heavy feeling - wondering what's left - 

"What did I say?!" You say....and "why is it this way?"

HOld your breath, and your next thought

 The words we've used to battle have created only scars...