trapped
inside of this box,
sitting on a deck,
and surrounded with thorns and snags.
white, sharp spikes.
a single move, would bleed my skin,
leaving bloodpools and red stains.
wall made of glass,
creating infinite illusions,
deceiving to the eyes
trapped, looking for demise,
screaming till the mirror starts to crack,
the same image appear,
within the new pieces.