Trapped In A Bottle

Often times,
I feel trapped…
an unwilling participant
in a slow suffocation death.
Trapped in a bottle.
A bottle…
with no room
to breathe or change position.

Hands tied with a vengeance.
Feet bound with a purpose.
Alone with me, myself & I.
Just lying there
curled up in a fetal position.
Soaked in tears;
my tears pouring down profusely.

Then all of a sudden,
the magnitude of my trapped mentality
hits me like a hurricane
and I start punching with all my might,
quarreling to break free
from the confines
of all the things
holding me hostage.

And, I scream;
purposely screaming out
at the top of my lungs,
so much that it hurts.
My voice a strange tone,
(my voice of reason fading)
but no one can hear me,
no matter how loud I scream,
the pain just echoes back.

6 thoughts on “Trapped In A Bottle

    1. aww, thank you so much and I sincerely appreciate your nomination of my poetry blog. Thanks for taking the time out each and every time to visit my site.

      And, congrats on your award. Wishing you all the best. Take care.

      Like

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