Wild

Caged, I am no different than the hundreds of animals around me. We are on display. Judged on first glances and brief interactions. Bumbling bodies crash consistently. One can only dream of a luxurious square foot of space, without the eyes invading. Always assessing, they are cause for social fear. Needling my back, they poke and prod. Yet surrounded by so many, I am more solus than ever. Dizzy with the pain of acting, my head rattles. Foul thoughts plaque this space with a putrid order of hate, jealousy and contempt. There are few Zookeepers who would ever dare to try and wipe this cage clean. Those who do, barely scrub an inch before one of us animals spits on it, stomps on it or bleeds on it. This cage will forever be stained with the grotesque suffering of all inside. The sunshine that filters in, is a flower growing through concrete. Strong and determined. I bask in its heat, feeling, even if for a second, that I can do the impossible. Then reality happens. Uprooting my inspiration, replacing it with a weight too heavy for my small shoulders. Falling, my hand reaches out. I scan for someone who sees. Sees with eyes untainted, hears with ears unbiased, has a heart that understands or at least wants to. Crashing to the ground with bone-shattering impact, I gaze through the bars that bind me. Finding nothing through the wall of tears. Despite the ache that threatens to rip apart my heart, I stand up. Walking on shaky legs to the next disaster. Cause lets be real, in a room full of wild teens, everything can go wrong.