Tuesday, November 24, 2015

My box

My box.

Label marked depression.
A home I wasn't born in,
But was forced to live in.

I had no choice in the matter.
It was never who I was,
But it defined me.

Beaten into submission.
Trained to preform.
Fate sealed and written.

Judged by definition.
I'm living in the Invisible,
six walled prison.

Tattered and broken.
Life's suffocating,
And I'm choking.

Stuck in my box.
Airtight coffin.
Label marked depression.