Hidden is the darkness, formed within a mold. Held beneath the shadows, not one has ever told. Lighting flashes like a door that fastens. Locked inside forever, none would dare to try and part. With the clay, under the towel, the hands pull and shape us. They stretch us out and push us in, trying to make us worth while. I'm locked inside another's body, I know for sure it's not mine. Forced to be something I'm not, but maybe that was the point all along. My voice is quiet my breathing shallow, and the others fail to see, that the worst part of me, was always them. The best locked inside the walls.