There is a world beyond the grounds of my mind in which I am confined
A world which has become a hazy fog of background noise and muted lights
Reality can not reach a part of me buried so deep within my own self-story
A piece of me that only exists in the tales of fiction
Within myself I find a clarity where all is bright and loud
Worlds of fantasy and altered reality where nonsense becomes fact
And fact merely a guideline
But even my imagination had limitations
There is a certain point even I can not see beyond
Where the creatures cannot replace living beings
And the future itself is murky and dark
As if hiding monster I have yet to know exist
Or hiding the light I have yet to see
In the confines of this box I have settled myself into
I can express the way my emotions form lines of color and word
This box so comfortable has become the limitation
Holding back the expressions from entering into the realm of reality
This box so comfortable has become a storing place
For all that I am so afraid to show the world
Does that make me my own limitation?
