who i’ve sworn to be.   a promise in pencil   that years have made so hard to read.   i’ve spent my life building walls   brick by brick and bruise by bruise...      a birdcage religion that whispered me to sleep.   but time is spinning silk   that coils ruthlessly;   with the devil’s patience,   it binds my hands so quietly   that soon it becomes a part of me.      so soften these edges and straighten out my tie.   and help me remember   the hope that i have compromised.      please be a broken record for me.