I'm trapped
Within walls I can't escape.
Flesh and blood
That so surround me I cannot
Touch them.
Confined
Within myself,
Covered
With a mask
That doesn't peel off.
I'm trapped.
I can squirm and
Squeal
Until my face turns
Blue,
Or more likely
Red.
I can scream and
Let the tears
Stream down my face;
I can crouch
Under the pounding
Waterfall of my own sobs,
Willing
The ground to fall
Away.
I do,
Cry, that is.
The River of Salt
Pours through me
Daily,
Yes,
True.
The Creek of Pain
Swishes down my throat
Hourly,
Of course.
But I always wait until
Sounds can fade away
Into inky blackness
Before I let them
Flow.
The hurt opens in me
Like a dam.
I can't seem to stop it,
If I do
Well, for the worse then.
I ache to cast away
My throbbing
Skin
Quite literally.
I long to dump these dusty
Bones
Apart from me.
This recycled vessel holds
Too many
Regrets.
They're like a drug to
Me
Those wet
Wails.
I crave to be alone
To release.
I want to bury my head under the
Blanket
Say,
"Enough!"
And enjoy the stomach dropping
Ride
From there.
I want to journey free
Of
Me,
Because
I am
What is hurting
Me
The most.
But even when
They run their
Frequent course
My lashes still
Flutter
As if to say,
"Still blind with agony,"
Sights still blurry with every
Blink.
Oh eyes still
Puffy with sadness.
Or worse
Because that's what's
Really under my
Skin
An unfortunate
Combination of worry
And that
Itch I cannot scratch.
Red, outermost.
Blue, perhaps, inside.
But white underneath,
With hot
Aggravation--
and yet not even that!
With disappointment,
Maybe.
Never satisfied with what
There is to
Have.
Waterworks will
Explode,
But it's better to let
Them do so,
I think.
Feel better,
Please.
And give my regards to
That itch you
Cannot scratch.
Maybe
I can
Scratch it for you.
