the walls

it’s hard to tell

whether they’re literally there

or not

the barrier barricading me in

the glass had a fracture

but the hot-glue gun fixed it fine

i’m not good at taking criticism

only when it comes from myself

the glass had a fracture 

i’m trying to tear through it

but every time I try to break the walls down

they bind together 

more connected than before

my mind is a prison

I stare blankly through the bars

what’s it like to be able to breathe

what’s it like to be free

what’s it like not being a hostage of your own mind

keeping you detained

in this space

there was a time before this

I said I loved everyone

I was enthusiastic

I was healthy

and lively

then the crimes I committed

I just wasn’t enough

for myself

or anyone else

they shoved me into the back of the car

blue and red lights flashing

too bright too loud too much

now I’m in the orange suit

right back in the prison that is my mind