I feel like I'm encased in a glass box of emotion.
Nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
On display for the world to see,
Like a toy doll waiting for a home.
People look at me,
But no one really sees me.
All they notice is a pretty face,
But I am so much more than that.
I have a story.
I have a tale to tell.
But no one really cares enough
To stop and listen.
Everyone is too caught up in their own problems,
Struggles,
Worries,
Sadness.
They never really open their eyes,
And see the world around them.
I have no one to turn to,
No one to talk to.
I am in complete,
Utter
Solitude.
Everyday,
I see the same things,
Hear the same things,
Do the same things,
It is all so repetitive.
I want to escape the clutches
Of this claustrophobic hell,
And finally be known for who I really am.
Someday, I will grasp the hammer in my own hands,
And smash this glass box open.
Let the world see the truth to my story,
Let them read me like an open book.
.....
But that day is not today.
Right now,
I am just a showcase.
But I am planning,
Prepping,
Waiting,
For the day I finally break free.