Cut
smoke,
swallow,
starve,
drink it away.
A handful of pills,
twist of a bottle,
a flick of the knife, the whip.
Instant freedom,
with an after price to pay.
They are -
one thought out of three
on a good day.
It’s been a long time
since the last good day.
Cage,
these promises,
commitments -
to “be good”
to “be safe”
to “be clean”.
Accidentally, I’ve made them
to you
to me
to all the people who need me.
Bar by bar
I built this cage I couldn’t see,
until now when
it covers all of me.
I am trapped
in a cell
of good intentions,
of hard won changes,
of tiny victories.
I am afraid to stay;
I am afraid to be set free.
I am afraid
of all the choices in front of me,
because in this cage
has awakened
the part of me who needs to be free.
It’s rusting, this cage.
Do I repair it,
or break free?
