Trapped behind this cold window pane,
Not knowing why I feel so drained and untamed.

Struggling to see my eyes with wanted clarity,
and it is all to easily, wasting away my identity.

The heart feels its pumping a beat too fast.
The lung feels as though it's about to collapse.

The head is hungry for something steady and practical.
My only defense left is to feel nothing at all.

This was never the ideal way to be,
A strong hollow tree that's quick to be weak.

Standing tranquil but ill in the face of fear,
at night I will be haunted by my tainted souvenir.

In my mind is the one place I truly exist,
Irresistible antipathy leaves me with cold, clinched fists.

There must be a day when I will love and be free.
Till then I will be staring out with empty defeat.