My bare feet are as cold as
the marbled floor, it rests on.
And my heart is as fresh as
the smell of earth after rain.
My hands move on the rim of my glass
from which I drink up life.
And I close my eyes knowing
these bars will keep me safe.
I’ve got a key, to let in those
who care enough.
They keep me safe from the sick world
And from the cruel and the insane.
I take off my glasses
and they powder in my fist.
I blow them through the bars
on which they settle and seem like dust.
My feet seems to sink in the floor.
And the air is red with my screams.
There is ink on my fingers, on my tongue.
On the touch of shards of my broken glass.
I bleed blue.
It’s getting lonely here,
no one cares, no one visits.
I cannot stay here any more,
But my key doesn’t fit.
I look at those outside,
The bars were not to keep them out.
It was to keep me in.