Chastise

I am adorned with an unforgiving mist.
A mist with sharp shoulders,
Stubborn, anxious.
Bared teeth gnashing with rage.
I am a prisoner to it's grip,
A fierce grip, piercing me with claws of earnest.
Thick blood drips with guilt.
If I am to be redeemed,
By being shredded into tiny fragments,
Torn by the beast within,
So be it.
For I am woefully crippled with shame.
Fleeting spirits are no longer endearing.
Inquisitive voids,
No longer spur me.
I am to be locked up,
Away.
Away from laughter,
Away from the society that rejected me,
And was graciously neglectful towards my unique perspectives.
I will dwell in solemness,
In hunger, fatigue, ignorant delight.
Until my salvation releases me from the bonds of restraint,
Willfully cutting off the hands,
To embrace the dawn,
To succumb to the typical,
The customary.
This is how independence falls,
How individuality dies,
All within,
The maniacal grin.