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A Prisoner of My Own Making

By: Tyner Twine

I’m but a prisoner of my own making,
In an ornate cage never-ending. 
I’m a flower that is slowly withering,
A faulted soul in need of mending

In the confines of my mind, 
I see another me,
A version much much different,
Than what others perceive to be. 

I don a gilded mask in the light of day,
Pretend there is no need for pretending.
Behind the closed doors in a room of blue and gray
I’m trapped in a cycle of beginnings without endings. 

The dawn feels like a burden on my shoulders,
The hopeful light of day makes it hard to breathe. 
And every day I carry this metaphorical boulder,
Wishing for the solace of six feet underneath. 

I am a residual haunting all on my own,
An apparition that continues to breathe.
Crushed by daily self-deceptions I’ve said and sown
With all my imperfections yet exposed and unsheathed. 

My calls for help were brushed as a joke and lie,
My tears branded as art for theatrics.
Eventually, a light in my soul has started to die,
Snuffed by the words of the gullible and the critics.

So, for tonight I’ll bid you all adieu,
As I rest and close my jail cell for another day,
My mind’s a frightening monster that’s hard to subdue,
And it has once again come to spirit me away. 

Copyright © Kristine Mariz Ursua | Year Posted 2022


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Date: 6/10/2022 11:33:00 AM

Everyone is limited by the borders of their own mind, but one can expand one's horizons with no effort at all! Aloha!