Boxed

Crush me in the box of reality,
smash my innards to a paste,
shut the lid with duct tape
and pierce air holes with a knife.

Sheltered eyes from the light,
broken nails at the hope of escape,
closed voice from lack of thought,
bleeding heat from the darkened love.

Sounds break through this cardboard space,
rain pours through the cracking tape,
grass softens the pounding anger,
roots uplift the prison of mind.

The air of freedom is a bitter bile.

Standing strong in the real world-

People are not as simple as the box.

Color and touch sting my skin.