Aim, throw, hit
Sharp
Pierces my chest
I shout but I sound like nothing
The walls are sound-proof, eye-proof
And escape-proof
Trapped forever within
Life's longing for itself.

Rolling across blades of grass
I pretend they are tippy tops of trees
And I am God's yellow face
The moon is my best friend
So I ask for the clouds to part
For the answers to crawl out of
Darkness, into somewhere bright
For interpretation.

My arms shield my eyes instead of
My chest which takes the blow
All bone and fragile tissue,
But not even sound-proof glass
Can stop me from seeing
Outside. Where nothing makes sense
Except for our stories and
The sun, but only when it shines.