My handcuffs
Aren't made of metal
Yet the way they look felt illegal.
I am no criminal
I didn't do something brutal.
Handcuffs made to contain an individual
Mine are made for living, for survival.
It does not have a key
It's something deeply tied to me.
Even with it i can move freely
Run away or even hurt my body.
Police didn't do this to me
It's just me and my endless misery
I am not a prisoner
Much more a killer–
I don't hurt others
I will never.
Misery, it caught me.
Physically free
Caged emotionally, mentally.
What did i do so wrong?
For life to imprison me for so long?
Handcuffs of Misery
Proofs of despair and agony.
Life made them for me.
Not even visible from afar.
After all, my chains aren't normal
They are only made of scars.
Scars made by sorrow
Slits caused by depression
Cuts made by desperation.
Wounds made for me to still wake up tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
Of Lines And Poetry
PoesíaBe able to read her deepest and darkest thoughts. It was hidden deep within her soul.
