This Is My Prison

This is my prison, The restrictive epitome of my existence I fight it, rage it, Futile resistance It holds me, choking my essence Tightness, pain, Constriction. The choice: Which? The pain Of the Change? Or the Stagnation: remaining the same Radiant: Devastatingly:Translucent. Plain as day yet invisible all the same They don’t want to see me: begrudging acknowledgement Pretend I don’t exist but Here: I am. Undaunted: I stand They draw from my quintessence, Altering me-stealing from my joy They covet my luminous effervescence But I, I see it I grip it with both hands It fills me and wells up, I realize I’ll not change for the world So I slit the veil. I transpire LIberated. I am free Transcendent for all to see