Still More Poetry
My plastic playpen traps and holds me.
Tall enough I cannot see.
And though I struggle at its edges,
The fu*king cage won�t set me free.

Turning, turning, stopping, falling.
Just a baby, all alone.
Never been beyond the border.
Plastic play is all I know.

Rounded toys and fuzzy objects
Safely watch me from the floor.
While sounds of further, stranger things
Roll out from underneath the door.

I�d rip that door straight off its hinge
If only I could fly.
To truly know what life is like,
To finally see the sky.

My goddamn pen still holds me fast
To live my sheltered day.
In which my spirit, soul, and mind
Fall quickly to decay

And so I tear apart my life.
We all do what we must.
I wait to bleed and drain and die
Then slowly fade to dust.

So stifling my world has been
Devoid of any air.
In a place where all is planned,
So safe and warm and fair.

Life is spontaneity,
Not running from the pain.
It isn�t siting dry at home,
But playing in the rain.

Inside my fuc*ing plastic pen
I lay my warm, dry head
Still living safely in a box
Though, inside, I�m dead.
HOME
Despair breaks on the shore,
Laps at my ankles.
Chest burning with swallowed miseries,
I�m afraid I�ll drown.
Unable to breathe� occasionally unwilling to.
There is some perverse pleasure in this pain.
I hide it away.
Unspoken and unseen, it is wholly mine.
Untouched by prying minds,
It festers and grows,
Fuels me,
And ruins me a little each day.
I choke it down when it rises bitterly in my throat,
Smile it away.

Even a pleasureless laugh can mask the deepest shades of death.
I rage inside.
Choked by my confined existence,
The world is not ready for my rebellion.
My own intensity is frightening.
The need to escape my glass box,
To experience everything at any cost.
My own mind drives me mad,
Pushes me to numbness.
We can�t escape who we are,
And I am a girl to frightened to let her beasts run.
I speak in muted screams
And prance in subdued wildness.
Chained and caged by my own meekness.
� but my bonds grow ever more brittle,
and time will see me released.
I quiver before my unknown capabilities.
What will I do when loose in the world?
I see more than ever in the haze.
The urge deepens.
To wade further into the mist,
Cover myself in foggy veils,
Hide in its depths.
It doesn�t matter how,
I get there any way I can.
To a world inside reality,
Beyond it.
I lust for the clam, drifting peace.
The beckoning dullness.
That place where I don�t feel,
Or care.
Where tomorrow is just a rumor,
Today is a frame of mind,
And life never extends past the moment.
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