Acrylicism.

I'm glad I'm so mad at myself for being this acrylic statue,
unable to move from this continuous state of sub-existence.
I've found I feel nothing between us but the distance.
Maybe one day I'll be shattered and taken from the pedestal I've been placed upon for all to see.
Broken and scattered, with nothing left to do but pick up pieces of me.
Go ahead, nudge the pedestal.
Make me feel.
Make me real.
Seal the deal
and steel the wheel.
This cars flipping fast
And I won't stop it.