The Door Locks from Your Side - working title

Thu, 07/23/2015 - 12:29 -- Deana_P

Hey, You!

Sitting, struggling, struggling to be sitting 

still.

Fidgeting and squirming in the seat but

 

No. Knows standing,

Standing is worse. Because standing

when your feet press the ground like a loaded gun

Your muscles clench, the cock pulled back

Your steps the trigger and boom.

Like a shot you are off.

 

Forget walking you're running so fast

you're flying, faster even than the speed of the lie that bursts from the starting line of your throat

through the finish line of your lips ever time someone asks how you are doing and you respond

'I'm great'

 

So sitting, sitting is where you are

because running from your problems is not your M.O.

But you are stting confined by walls not of your own creation

And how can you not see that it is not cowardice to leave?

That serving out a sentence, watching life move on from behind cell walls is not bravery.

That one hour of sunshine a day is not enough to sustain your human spirit.

 

Because you live for those you love and they love that you stay and be exactly who they expect.

A big sister, a role model, a model student, athlete, christian.

You have painted a picture more beautiful than a Picasso IN YOU to cover the things you aren't.

Injested the words of support like sweet cyanide aimed directly at the heart of it all

Where living for them is only killing you so you no loger have the capacity TO LOVE.

And when you live for those you love but now you no longer love, then what are you living for?

 

So you, live for you, love yourself first

Look out the window at the beautiful day. And when you're ready... the cell door is open.

You are the only barrier to life on the outside, you're still sitting, sitting, and the time for sitting

is over. So, stand,

Load,

Cock,

Trigger...

This poem is about: 
Me

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