Rules and universal things

I tell myself I have no say,
my mother tells me not to say,
and so silent I am, supposed in time, frozen,
living my life one day at a time,
Waiting for that beautiful moment when you are
there, your figure in the mist,
me in the mist, us surrounded by dew,
but I am told No Wait Now isn’t the time
and I scream – harmonics be damned,
the melody and chords and rhythm
of this song can go to hell, because
the faintest hope that you are there with me
can give me good mornings for a week,
can bring sunshine on my darkest days,
but I am told The Time Is Not Right.
I write these verses in rebellion, in anger,
frustrated by the manacles on my lips,
pissed by the fragility of my heart, but also
bloody incensed at the unfairness of it all.
– I am shot, my little heart broken,
and I cry myself to some kind of sleep
because, because, but the laws – I feel dulled.