Prisoner

I am a prisoner

My lips are sealing words yearning freedom my mind is caging thoughts that overcrowd the silence when the night falls.

I am a prisoner of my thoughts and my thoughts are prisoners of my body.

My body is kept hostage by my soul.

My soul a prisoner of this world, and this world will never be content with a soul like mine.

I am a prisoner, of emotions pressed like a forbidden button filled with ideas.

My ideas moulded into locked boxes with opportunities inside.

I am just a prisoner.

Prisoner of skin forbidden. I am a forbidden fruit, picked and left outside in the sun to rot, but blossomed into a black rose in a garden only embracing red roses.

I am a prisoner misplaced.

Prisoner of the moonlight that follows me at night.

Prisoner of sunrays which engrave initials of fingers that attempted to own me at day.

I am a prisoner of burdens that aren’t mine but welcomed by my shoulders to carry, while I am a prisoner of hands once held and palms closed with rage.

I am a prisoner of false hope and long kept disappointments begging to be released.

I am a prisoner of the ocean that never seems to wash my guilt away, of the sea that never rinsed my cries with salt.

I am a prisoner of rage that stays, and smiles which fades.

I am a prisoner of words that stick and sticks that wound.

Of pens that can’t stop moving and of pages that won’t stay blank.

I am a prisoner of a mind that won’t stop wondering, and of hands that won’t stop consoling.

I am a prisoner of an imagination without a guard.

So free me. With words and ideas,

Free me with gifts of black roses being planted wherever they wish and being embraced like the red roses.

Free me with ideas and kiss the colour of my skin with your soul.

Free me from burdens of mine I do not want to wish to return yours for I will carry them too.

Just free me.

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