I Woke up in Mexico.

Wandering down a road of no return,

The Mexico air gives me no relief,

I feel the shackles claiming my skin,

Burning it with fierce metal coolness,

Staining my ribcage with wicked shapes,

Spooning my backside like cradled hands,

I want to be free of the chains that restrain me,

That bind me from the inside,

My eyes are growing weary,

Cast down to stare at tattered feet,

Damn, I regret those tequila shots,

Those shots,

The ones that have clearly have me hallucinating,

The ones that made me a raging fool,

Whispers cloud my ears,

Treacherous words overflowing,

I dwell too long on the melody of the wind,

I take solitude in its fury,

I yank and pull at the cage that has me entangled,

Choked sobs escape from desperate lips,

A bastard forced to walk the Earth,

Abandonment sneers at its creation,

Searching,

Seeking,

A hand that matches my hand,

Skin that bears purple undertones,

A face to claim my pain,

Wandering down a road of no return,

Wondering if he’s wandering too?