Caged

When I was innocent and clueless, I watched my parents get high and continuously abuse each other both physically and mentally. Not aware of the wicked surrounding me, I sat at my little red table every morning and colored in my coloring book. I would then show my mom once I was finished and she would compliment me on how I neatly colored inside the lines. I was happy. As I get older, I learned. I was aware that what was going around me was not good. It was bad. Then, I was sad. If you were to crawl into my skin and see what I saw, think what I thought and feel what I felt, you would desperately seek a way out. Like a caged bird wanting to fly into the wild, you want to be free. Free of your own mind, free of your own thoughts, free of your own emotions.