You need to get out,
to run free.
You want fresh air,
to breathe deep.
You long to run,
to get away.
But here you sit.
four walls,
ceiling and floor.
That keep you from going,
keep you trapped.
Desperately wishing for more.
More of what could be,
more of what you could be.
And one day,
you realize.
You built these walls,
carefully decorating their
bare boundaries.
And just as you built
this little life of yours,
you can build yourself
a door, and just
walk out.
{RM} a claustrophobic life
