I Yearn
The bars hem me in
They are in truth phantoms
My sandals drag circles
In the damp sand
forming trenches of forgetting
My imaginary prison cripples me
I collapse
Desolation my companion
No sunlight gets through
No movement
No sound
I am bruised
with big purple blotches
Hurling myself into
unyielding
walls
I beat against them
I am too weak
to knock down
seemingly solid
confidence breakers
I live in dense delusions
I cannot move into
the multi-dimensional
me
Thorns
Rooted
Glory
Redeemed by years of self-abased thinking?
Can I emerge?
An unclean conundrum
One day, I will
make out the rope
Grasp
Journey, upward
to
Myself
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