I Am a prisoner of a paper cell of my own making

A slave of my choices that are now my life 

I am the words I said and the things I can't take back 

These are the chains that pull me deeper and deeper down into the pit 

Another lie, another nail shuts the coffin on my walking corpse

So cold, yet so full of hope, so heavy and yet so empty

Each Night I drown in wave after wave of insecurities 

each one stifling whatever lackluster dreams are left into a dark and amorphous blob of fear and trepidation

Am I alone in this ever enveloping angst that consumes the soul leaving but a bleeding husk on a bathroom floor that can do nothing but cry out to empty and apathetic corridors? 

I Am Not 

It's always a word from You that pulls me out of the water and I don't even know who You are

But I know who I am 

I am more than my fears and deprivations

I Am a reflection of my actions 

The product of my environment 

And the outcome of my friendships 

I Am a person who still draws breath and is happy to do so 

because with each one I reach for a chance to reinvent myself 

Not only to be who I am bt to become who I am meant to be