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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1714402
Feeling trapped and sad, and waiting to be saved from this perculiar prison.
I’m trapped in a cardboard box
I can’t breathe and I can’t see
Too small for me.
Hence encased in a flimsy brown coffin.
What to do in my vacuum world?
With my knees against my chest it’s nigh impossible to rest.
You can take a break if you please
No escape for me.
So I wait… and I wait, for a tiny air hole or two
To be poked into my box.
You, hug me, you.
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