Monday, April 26, 2010

If prison is a cell then its raging in my blood

Cages.



I'm sick of them. The ones you build yourself, the ones you find yourself in, the ones other people put you in. Every day is made up of so many cages, keeping me confined. My body is a cage, the walls of my room, my stupid job, my lack of words, my lack of strength to move to eat to go out to grow to change.

I realize I've put myself in many of these cages. Not consciously,or if it was, it was while thinking I had the key to get out when I needed to. I guess I never did have that key, and now that the cages keep getting smaller and smaller, I have no idea where to look. I've looked so long to others,and that has been useless. they dangle ideas of keys in front of my face, but they aren't the right ones, or ones I'm strong enough to grab onto. There are too many other things blocking the way. Sometimes I poke my foot out between the bars and find there is no ground beneath me.

Other cages I've been thrown into without a say. Psych wards, treatment centers. Diagnostic categories. And labels that define my worth; weird, freak, loser, nothing. Scars like prison bars across every inch of my arms scream "unstable, stay away." say lost cause, damaged.

Sometimes cages are safe. They are the Known. They keep people out. They are a ready-made excuse for staying stuck, a perfect reason for not succeeding, an isolated little world. But through each bar you see what you are missing, the people and things you can't seem to reach or have reach you, the light that can never touch you fully.

I've become my own cage.

2 comments:

  1. Wonderful words and also saddening words. But words I know nonetheless. The cages cannot contain us forever; as beings who need light to live we will emerge at our own pace and in our own way.

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  2. fantastic post.
    I understand. I run from everything, afraid to be caged, and finally, when I have to stop to catch my breath, I realize I AM THE CAGE.

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