Oscura visione astratta di una mente in una gabbia di ferro

The past.. a cage.. no.. mouth of iron, cold, I bite it back.. it bites.. I do as told. Knots in the bone.. no, deeper.. in the breath, They bloom, they choke.. they hum of little deaths. This body.. wrong.. too tight.. too full of seams, It leaks in thought.. it stutters into dreams. I pull.. it splits.. not pain.. not clean.. not right, Something beneath keeps pressing into sight. The shadows talk.. or I do.. hard to tell, They wear me out.. they wear me in as well. They learn my voice.. then twist it when they speak, They sound like me.. but crushed, compressed ,oblique. The people blur.. reduced to shape and trait, I press.. they fold.. it happens without weight. Resistance flickers.. brief.. then out of sight, They end as soon as ending feels right. No heaven set.. no hell to hold me still, No final shape.. no single, steady will. No god.. no, wait.. that word feels wrong to tell, Just fitting wrong.. that fits me far too well. (best aesthetic, dark foreboding colors).

monochrome, cage, mouth