I’ve found a box and locked myself in it.
Something about the dark and the silence
called to me and I forgot where the opening is.
With time the edges got jagged
so I became a burden to those who
wanted to carry me around.
I know I am cutting into their skin, to the bone
I know I am the problem
There’s no other answer to the question
why so many moved the box out of their lives
So when someone picks me up,
I do my best to polish the edges,
not let it all get out,
conceal and think ahead
don’t let them know my mind
because it’s such a scary place.
I became mute,
scared of making a choice,
scared of being put in the charity pile
and so desperate for someone who will
pull off the lid and help me get out.
Get my book Rehab on Amazon: