I know how I’m going to die.
Trapped inside of my mind with no room to stretch
and no oxygen to breathe,
surly my own thoughts will suffocate me long before
I turn to stone from my rigid posture.

I’ve always wondered what I was meant to be
and if I will ever be able be that..
To attempt to accomplish everything I’ve laid out for myself
is terrifying, especially when
those I loved the hardest
already have a mold ready for me.

as if this was a twisted tale of Cinderella,
I was forced to wear something that could never fit me.
Blisters and bruises weren’t the only things I received.
now I hide inside of my mind,
a body inside of a body,
because how can he hurt me if
the real me is hidden ?