Solemn and lonesome I sit here enclosed in these four walls like the fire enclosed in my bones, by anxiety beneath by very skin, cloaked by the distance on my face, feeling them tighten like my wind passages shortening my breath like the beating down of thousands of judgemental eyes bearing down on my back nearly breaking me under the pressure of being guilty before proven innocent. Losing my innocence to the defilement of the watchful gazes of wannabes who claim to care, as i am a porcelain doll on their shelf of trophies. my porcelain chipped, my beauty fading, nobody noticing because they only polish me when it is convenient for them. my plastic smile remains fixed with rosey cheeks and shut mouth molded together in the kilns of growing up in such a tortured blaze. Eyes of glass gaze blankly as the windows into deep chasms of timeless wonder, wisdom, want and agony. Insides hollow turned to chalk-white dust from being sucked as dry as my thick hardened buffetted skin. Bending to their wills, fancies and whims, still rigid and paralyzed from forgetting how to feel. The invisible tears still somehow stream down the perfect facade. In a perpetual daydream.
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