The Breaking Point

Three AM and the fridge is humming too loud. I'm staring at the wallpaper, tracing the clouds. In the peeling paint, my hands are shaking a Bit. Grab the jacket, check the pockets, This is it. The air in here is stale Like a library book. I'm leaving a mess, I'm not giving a look. One heavy breath, the door handle's cold. The same old story I'm tired of being told. To wait, to sit, to stay in the lines. I'm crossing them all, I'm ignoring the signs. And then, snap, something breaks inside. No more place for the secrets to hide. I'm hitting the stairs, I'm skipping the beat. I wanna feel the grit of the midnight street. It's the breaking point, yeah it's finally Real. I forgot how the wind on my Face used to feel. The elevator's stuck on the seventh floor. Screw it, I'm running, I'm out of the door. My sneakers are hitting the concrete hard. Passing the ghosts in the empty yard. Streetlights are blinking, Like they're trying to talk. But I'm not here for a midnight walk. Left, right, don't trip. Get a grip, man, just get a grip. The city is huge, I'm small, so what? I'm the only one here who's not losing the Plot. Snap, something breaks inside. No more place for the secrets to hide. I'm hitting the stairs, I'm skipping the beat. I wanna feel the grit of the midnight street. It's the breaking point, yeah it's finally Real. I forgot how the wind on my Face used to feel. Keep moving. Keep moving. Don't look up yet. Just move.