What I Want To Be

I hear your voice screaming in the meadow, words spoken abusively in the shadows. I know it's not in my head. It grows. I hear footsteps in the deep dark forest, running like the sound of fearful horses. But I know it's not in my head. It echoes Sometimes I feel like I'm tightly confined and losing my mind. My loss of ability to save who I want to be is taking over me from behind. And though who I want to be is not what I always see, it can't hurt to try.