I stare off
At my bunk bed surface
To deep space
The metal bars under the cork
Shape like prison bars on a fork
Steep
Dark
Suffocating
Dull
I sink more to my cheap, wrinkled sheets
Still, frigidity penetrates it
I wonder why
You write
Because you know you are right
Or are you alright?
I trust everybody when they are writing
Because it shows who they truly are
They cannot be expressed ******
No matter how far
Who knows
I am Miss Understood
It feels as wintry as the neighborhood
I do not rise from it
Or will I ever
And always be the escapist prisoner of my prison
That I have built myself
Since I, the only one can enjoy it
Unreachable like how I reach things from the hole peeking from the bunk bed