Ceilings and Walls

I lay here and, like a crazy person, I stare at this ceiling. 

I hate it! I hate everything it represents! Limit setting and destiny stealing. 

It pretends to keep me safe from the storms and the rain.

But what can it do for the hurricane in my soul? It can never protect me from life's turmoil! This pain! 

It tells me I'm small, I'm insignificant and most assuredly, I'm insane. 

It tells me about all the boxes, boundaries and borders in my brain. 

My eyes move and my disdain grows as I stare at these walls.

We stay safe inside these toy boxes like G.I. Joes and Barbie Dolls. 

They send me silent messages, and they tell me so many lies.

They tell me I'll be here forever, boxed in, until my heart dies. 

Where are all the roses? Where's the priest? Because I'm in a casket.

This life with walls and ceilings... Dead Man, you can have it. 

Where's the rest? Where's the peace? 

Because I'm laying in a grave.

Serving these walls and ceilings... Dead Man, you can be their slave. 

I clench my teeth. Tears sting. My jaw is stern.

Through me, these ceilings and walls have a lesson to learn. 

You can't persuade everyone. You can't get into every head. 

Not everyone is going to sleep in the bed of complacency until their dead! 

NOT ME! Call the doctor! I've lost it. Yeah, I'm finally free.

I've lost your lies. I've lost your threats. I've lost all your seeds. 

I know. You worked hard to sow. But with all my might, I let go. 

This ceiling is far too low, and these walls move far too slow. 

I can't succumb to these ceilings and walls. 

I'm not made of plastic like Barbie Dolls. 

There's blood in my veins, and it's boiling hot!

It triggers my brain and reminds me what you're not.

You're not my friend, and you're not my forever.

You're not my standard, and you're not my never. 

You don't set my limits. You are not my end.

You can't keep me kept. We'll never blend. 

I won't be drugged or hypnotized. 

I won't be numbed or desensitized. 

Dead Man, you can keep this silence, this space, and these ceilings and walls. 

I'm too alive for this bondage. I choose the prison of Paul. 

Dead Man, you can have this safety, this protection, and this covering. 

My lungs have too much air for all of that smothering. 

I'm out. I gotta go. I'm leaving you behind. 

I'm out growing and out living these ceilings and walls in my mind. 

It's time for me to taste the sky you kept me from seeing.

It's time for me to encounter the life you've kept me fleeing. 

Ceiling and Walls, just promise me one thing of our time together.

Hold my story in your paint, and forget me never.

When another radical who is boxed in stares at you and hopes for more.

They'll see my story in your paint, and they'll run for the door.