My Urn

I’m searching for a way our, Hoping to find an open door Looking for a familiar face One I’ve seen before The tears well up in my eyes And distort the only thing I see The shadows feel like home Yet prevent me to breathe Every fracture in the seem Gives out a ray of light A realization that this is factual Is penetrating my broken heart Dust to dust and ash to ash Is what I’m becoming in this urn of mine Straining desperately to break free Before it consumes my life The shadows beckon me to reside In this illusion of freedom Telling me who I am Or rather, who they want me to be Disavowing this as truth I languish over the possibility That I’m killing myself slowly As I’m declining the solace I find in you So I ask you this question, Do you, as do I Cry for the chance to breathe again But yet in bitter anguish Cry for the chance to die? But does any of it matter? Do you care? The answer is answered In your eyes as you stare I’m trapped in this place This urn where I am kept Under your control Where you laughed as I wept I’m your prized possession You won me fair and square I am taken out to make you happy Then thrown back in when your contentment is there The questions linger As I lay quiet My piece of mind is lost Trampled in the riot Will I ever be free I suppose it’s up to me Or will I die In this urn of mine