She sits with her silence,
Bound by her thoughts.
Life continues anyway,
But join in, she does not.
Though she would like to,
It takes time to decide,
And once she gets ready,
There’s no room in the ride.
So maybe she’ll start walking,
Or she’ll stay frozen in fear.
She wants to go somewhere else,
But she seems to be stuck here.
She’s found a doorway
Just a handful of times,
But every time she moves closer,
Further away it flies.
There must be a lesson
In this self-aware prison,
A continuous torturous cycle
From which she hasn’t risen.
Swirling and thrashing
In circular motions,
Part of her must like
Being breathless in the ocean.
Yet there’s a small part
On the left side of her brain
That hates this **** cycle,
The suffocation insane.
But she doesn’t control movement
And barely steers thoughts,
So here she goes again,
Busting down doors that should remain locked.
She’s scared to read new stories
With endings untold,
When all familiar tales
End predictably bitter and cold.
There’s bite to the freeze, though,
And pleasure in pain.
Echoes fill her mind’s chamber:
“Free us from these chains.”
No, she doesn’t need saving,
She’s working out the clues.
You say she’s isolating,
But it’s what she has to do.
So very easily distracted,
Hypnotized by honeyed words,
She falls in love so quickly,
Abandoning her puzzled curse.
And when it surely fizzles out,
She’s back here at square one,
A couple days of crashing out,
Erasing all the work she’s done.
Twenty seven years of this and it's surely lost it's fun
