Cold.
Everything is covered in
a piercing cold
that makes me bundle up
with the hope of giving up
and a couple warm breaths on my hands.
But sometimes,
there is a spot of heat in the air
that fully envelopes me
while I sit in the silence
wondering how this could be.
But I want, no no, I need to get out,
locked inside an Arctic display
of my head that they splay
on a mount that no one will see.
And all I need is a crack in control
for me to weasel right into and break
so I can breathe fresh air
and see what a laugh looks like again.

Silence.
The room is filled with
complete silence
except for the scratching and screeching
of the record on repeat
that is completely made up of my thoughts.
On occasion,
you can hear the drip-drip-dripping
of my tears as they hit the floor
or my hands pounding on titanium walls
but praying for a door,
because I want, no, I need to get out,
trapped inside this heartless cage
where all I am is filled with rage
and hate and resentment.
And all I need is a crack in the wall
for me to throw my back into and break
so I can see the light
and hear what a smile sounds like again.