these cubicle walls are more like prison bars
and these student loans are handcuffing me to the desk--
i need your goddamn check to get free,
but the interest just keeps rising
and these cubicle walls and prison bars and handcuffs around my wrists keep thickening.
society got to me in my youth,
when i was too young and naïve to see that its path was paved with trickery.
yes, sir, right away, sir, anything you say, sir.
yes, sir, i want that check, sir.
yes, sir, i will dance, sir.
yes, sir, i will beg, sir.
yes, sir, i want freedom, sir.
yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir.
yes, sir, you tricked me, sir.
yes, sir, i am yours, sir.
yes, sir, i will follow all your orders, sir.
yes, sir, whatever you say, sir, i just really need that check, sir.
yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir.

when i was 8 years old i thought the world ended with my city limits.
when i was 8 years old i thought i could reach out and touch the stars.
when i was 8 years old i thought my mother was god.
when i was 8 years old i thought my father was invincible.
when i was 8 years old i thought my dreams were glimpses into the future.
when i was 8 years old i thought everyone within view was my friend.
when i was 8 years old i thought rainbows were made from magic.
when i was 8 years old i thought kindness was my superpower.
when i was 8 years old i thought every picture i drew on my bedroom wall was majestic.
when i was 8 years old i thought my dogs understood my every word.
when i was 8 years old i thought i was in love, many times, with many different young girls whose hands just happened to be covered in cooties.
when i was 8 years old i thought that dime i found on the floor that one afternoon was worth a fortune.
when i was 8 years old i thought ice cream was an inalienable right, though i didn’t know what the word inalienable was at the time.
when i was 8 years old i thought my teacher was the smartest person on the planet.
when i was 8 years old i thought that bruise on my knee would be the death of me.
when i was 8 years old i thought dinosaurs still existed, somewhere, and that one day my parents would take me to that somewhere and i would be able to pet them and maybe even ride them and maybe, if i was really, really good, i’d be able to take one home and introduce it to my dogs.
when i was 8 years old i thought every smile was real and every promise was unbreakable.
but now i am 25 years old and i no longer waste my time with such silly thoughts.

sometimes my mind is blank.
an empty void
filled only with silence.
and other times my mind is chaotic.
a stormy night
filled with screams that never cease. 
i search desperately for a place in the middle.
a place where my thoughts have enough room to grow and enough water to nourish them without drowning them out.
but all i can find are droughts and stormy nights.
silence and loud screams.
words that mean nothing.
and words that are far too loud. 
i want to find some middle ground.
some sanity.
some happiness to sprinkle upon this miserable life that i can’t seem to evade.
but the nights are too dark and the days are too hot and my legs are too weak and there are a million more excuses for why i continue to delay my journey to a better place.
fear.
i wonder why i fear happiness.
why i fear normality.
why i fear a calm heart with a smile across my face.
why i fear…
but i can’t stop.
i am crippled by it.