The cold stone ground unyielding to your form

The slant of light, monotonous hours

The door is locked tighter than your smashed lips

You head is wailing behind your slowly sinking eyes

Searching for the key you swallowed long ago, twisting your insides into unrecognizable shapes

Trying to claw your way out with cracked and bloodied hands

Looking around you box, roving over crumbling stones

Seeing through the dark into the sun

The trees waltzing with the wind

You know how to get back there but

The pain on your wrists remind you

The chains

On your mind, wrapped, suffocating

Your heart murmuring

the chains it becomes obvious

Smash them

Remember the words

The movement of a pen

The arc of its lines

Lines that make words

Words, ideas

Ideas…

It's dark again

The heat creeps across your face

Feverish you pray for strength

Your joints creak and crack

The cold stone ground unyielding to your form

The slant of light, monotonous hours

The door locked tighter than your smashed lips.