Trapped deep in the dungeons of your mind
You look up at the gaping window of sustenance
In hope that something– somebody will know you are there, alone, and voiceless.
Expecting someone to hold their hand down
Despite you knowing this is no fairy tale
There isn’t a magical prince to save the damsel in regress of her own distress.
Deep amidst your thoughts of anxiety
Suddenly a suffocating steam erupts, rising above your ankles
Fear strikes your heart
The prickling heat is climbing up your body
The pulse hits your heart again
This utter fear, it’s as if a shard of glass has been removed from your eyes
your blurred vision clears for a split second of another sharp pulse
you see a rusty chair sitting near
The touch of turmoil having reached your chest
You scramble to the chair in desperation
through the steam of despair
As you climb out the window
Realizing the sustenance was in you from the beginning.