The Prison.

You come creeping, a terror
from the shadows of my damaged mind.
You beckon to me, ever obediant
I follow.
How can I not? my soul whispers, broken.
You hold all my dreams,
and for them, I cannot break free.
Confusion tumbles through my fragile mind,
threatening to shatter
the flawed and cracking china.
Uncertainty, of my desire to be free,
when I'm not even sure,
I remember what that is.
Freedom,
a concept for the outside world.
I watch, a bad movie, with poor actors,
from within these confines you designed.
Your eyes glow, beautiful, frightening,
compelling, gleaming with malicious humour,
and my heart simply melts,
like plastic poured over with acid.
Your voice glides over me
suede against my skin,
telling me that this prison
is not really what it seems,
that I can break out.
But my will is no longer my own,
and I find, I no longer have the desire.
The confusion settles like dust beneath rain,
and I succumb, once again.
Not that I ever really fought.