Poem: This Prison

MK told me to write a poem since I haven't written one for her in a while. She said I could write about anything. So I did. I based it off of a little fragment of poetry I did my Senior year. Enjoy, whoever comes here!

This Prison

My hands are tied behind my back
I lay defenseless, wounded, with the lack of hope to make a wish.
My eyes blinded with the darkness of the room
I realize I am no longer in comfort
And as I lay here alert wondering how much longer until I'm fully hurt
I take in another realization
that takes seniority of all of the above,
and that is the feeling of discomfort when I'm in...like.
Or rather...when I THINK I am.
For all of this is just a metaphor for what I feel.

My hands are not tied behind my back,
rather...
it's my heart that has a lack of courage
to tell her how I feel now.
That's what puts my hands not behind my back
but in the pocket of my jacket
My eyes aren't blinded.
NO...for if they are blinded,
they are merely just in a knot winded up by jealousy
Only causing my mind to flex and cringe only for hell to see.
And the absence of solace...
The feeling of being hurt...
that's my own fault for making her
my only selfish comfort...

What do I do?
My only other option is to fix this mistake
before the option to break, put at stake, and RETAKE...
what is not mind...appears in my brain.

POW!

And just like that...
My mind has taken a 180 degree turn
and realized the lie that I've given myself
is nothing more than a sense of an insecure bluff
to try to give myself the sense of being tough.
And like any prepubescent boy my age
We all got to act tough, brave, and hella bloody shady, don't we?
Because...isn't that what pleases the ladies?

And if not, then what?
What is the way to your heart?
In you what intent is hidden?
Do you have any for us?
For me? For you? For Jason the football jock who's seen always wearing that really gay burger king crown?
What...
What incision must I make to get through to you...?
I do not know for I'm trying to remain true to myself
and I'm finding it hard when I'm somewhere forced to keep me on my guard.
Until I find a answer I shall put my heart on lockdown,
and split my heart into a thousand shards
I will scatter them across the planet
under every rock, in every tree, in every crevice
from new years to Christmas Eve
..until I understand you...
For I won't need it until then...
Nor will I use it...
No, not here, not in this imaginary prison.