Mask vs. Freedom

Silence, dark and blind

I can't conceive existence beyond my own fingertips

I stare at newsprint, glaring faces

I trace my fingers through glossy washed hair

Faces and voices, watching me

Nothing exists past this smog

The clasps on my iron mask grow weaker

Day in day out, year after year

It's natural that they would rust

I've been waiting for so long

Pent up, staring through a slit

And now I'm breaking at the seams

It's these bloody smog clouds

Staring, vainly

They stick to me they are my skin

Last week my mask was lined with swooning velvet

I couldn't feel it chocking me

With its purple softness

Warmth, and dark, and safety, in my iron walls

The clasp will break, and I'll come tumbling out

Eyes wide and wild, skin scarred and oozing

All fiery shouting six stones of me

Adoring delusions and revelling in new found freedom

If only the lock would break

If only I could gnaw it away

If my smog clouds clear

If insanity blows itself out

I'll be happy either way, free or caged

But don't make me feel like this

Like I'm almost free and almost trapped

Tearing at my bonds, the metal scouring my skin

My body jolting hopelessly, vainly

Tearing and wailing, silently

Let me abandon this horrible introspective silence

These awful thick fog waifs

I want to see again, my faint semblance of happiness

Or an impossible bask in insanity

One single draught in all this stuffy darkness