that which binds us

My mind is a jail cell, my words in shackles and I desperately try to break free and  I scream
but this mind is a mental ward, white walls
concrete and sound proof, no one hears my words
as they bounce back at me, I hate them,
hate the way they cloud my brain and I can’t get rid of them
with hands tied to my sides in a straitjacket of the mind, I
can’t do anything.
My mind is a cloudy day and I want to fly but
the weather up here is just too muddled for me
not to crash.

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