Get off of me—

You dreadful chains,

You sable smog.

You make my life miserable—

            So uncomfortable.


I want to see the world.

I want to feel God's breath on my skin.

I want to smell the daisies.

I want to shine like the orange Nvda

            basking in its warm light.


Life is too fleeting to stay cooped up in this tiny bowl—

so cold on my skin,

            so dull.


The time has come—

She stares with dreaming eyes.

She reaches with eager hands.

She made the decision.


She grasps the juicy, round, orange fruit…





Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741