I feel trapped.
Suffering from a phobia;
Words,
Can’t comprehend.
Am in a world,
Where colours;
Are like the stuttering lips;
Of a lonesome fool.
The people are lifeless.
Dead,
To the very core of their souls.
A crime,
To hear the cry of your heart.
And a felony;
To question your very existence.
I pant after freedom.
Insanity gnawing at my spirit.
But the words I write,
Are my heroine.
And my stories,
Bring glimpses of sanity.
Yet my flame still flickers.
Dancing;
With every sentence;
I conjure.
They try to douse it.
Spitting mockery,
At my ‘’foolishness.’’
But I shall tend my flame.
So, my flame lives on;
With the drugs I render.
Addicted I am,
To the marrow of my bones.

