I want to get out but the way is shut,

I want to fly but my wings are bleeding,

I want to sing at the top of my lungs but they're punctured,

I want to cry but my eyes are dry,

And the air,

The air is so thin such that I can neither breathe nor gasp,

I desire nothing more than to be free but the clouds are dark,

They threaten to fall,

They whisper of an incoming storm,

A storm that will sweep everything away,

And erase the very existence of I.

 

I am scared,

I am scared of death,

I am scared of being gone,

Of being forgotten,

Of being remembered.

 

I sit for a while to contemplate,

To think of another way,

Because a solution is just an idea ahead,

Because I want to live,

I want to experience the said joys of this world.

 

So I stand and push,

And push again I do,

For the wall of freedom is hardened,

It requires a shake,

A shake of fear, confusion, and anxiety,

I put on an armor,

And the wall comes tumbling,

And I wonder,

Was it always this easy?