I’m suffocating in the middle an open field.
Fresh air all around me, but I can’t use my lungs.
The only things holding me back are the ropes around my wrists.
They aren’t tight, but they itch, and I scratch them everyday.
My skin is raw and bleeding, adding threads that agitate.
I can’t cry without them pulling,
I can’t laugh without their say,
So instead I smile, no tears, and I lie that I’m ok.
I’m drowning underwater, liquid spilling down my throat.
If it wasn’t for the chain around my neck, I swear I’d float.
But the water fills my mouth,
And the metal makes me choke.
I’m five inches from the surface, but my fears won’t let me go.
I’m walking down the hallway, familiar faces side by side,
But no one seems to see how much I’m gasping for air inside.
But the faces keep on passing
The ropes and chains will not subside.
But I can’t call out for help, no one will answer, so