Safety In Restriction.

Poetry

I suppress it:
The urge to write.
The urge to let my feelings dribble on a page.
I need to control.
Need to know what will happen so I will be prepared.
So nothing will ever hurt me.
With my fort too high to breach.
And my hair too short to climb.
I will not be broken.

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I only depend on ME.

Poetry

I feel as though I have lost myself:
a shell living on automatic.
As I walk through everyday life,
I am confined by a mere glass:
experiencing but not feeling.
My prison becomes smaller and smaller,
but as I suffocate I ask for no help.
I depend on me.
Me.
M.
E.
The bars burn lines on my skin.
M.
E.
The oxygen thickens until I can’t breathe.
M.
E.
My vision blurs.
M.
E.
I gracefully fall into darkness…
Me.
Me.
ME!
I only depend on me.
Me.
Myself.
I.