Locked in my cage, I stare at the emptiness;
this very emptiness possesses my soul
we are one.
The months pass, as do the years,
yet as time progresses, it loses all relevance.
I sit here trapped in a recurring nightmare, never to awaken.
I feed on my own self-pity
I never hunger. I merely exist,
captive in this asylum, biding my time; my sole gratification, inebriated isolation.
The door to my cage is ajar, as is often the case, yet it's pointless to leave;
each journey leads me back to this God-forsaken realm of suffering and despair.
Long ago, I was free;
I remember faces, smiling faces.
A different me, in a different time it was a time of fulfillment, of togetherness, of love.
Then one day the fantasy ended, and I was here . . .
but enough about the past; I must face my reality.
Distant voices race through my head, as I stave off insanity.
But this time, the voice is real. Unsure of its origin,
I feel my soul is not as cold; my burden lighter.
Though I smile, I soon shiver in frustration.
Tears stream down my cheeks,
as I cannot deny that the other voice is my own,
as my rationality succumbs to my imagination.
"I don't have to be what somebody else wants me to be, and I am not afraid to be what i want to be."