Walls

I want to be surrounded by four walls. Confining me in close quarters.

Walls made of concrete. Strong and Opaque.

In solitary I want to stand, and let the tears out.

I want to release the pressure that has built up from holding back screams.

I want to weep and cry and scream and sob.

Heartily, enough to make my eyes as red as a ripe apple and swollen like an ant bite.

Once I run out of tears and my throat start to ache, I want the walls to turn into glass.

I want to be surrounded by four walls. Confining me in close quarters.

Walls made of glass. Fragile and Transparent.

In solitary I want to stand, and look at the world looking at me.

I want the tension to build up and the strength to rise.

I want to rage and cry and push and break.

Forcefully enough to shatter the glasses and bleed my knuckles.

Once I run out of energy and the world starts to blind, I want the shards of glass to disappear.

When I open my eyes, I want no walls around me.

I want to wake up in the middle of a sea, floating on a log.

Surrounded by the vast expanse of blue.

The salty breeze would drain my eyes of the tears,

And red swollen eyes would only reflect blue.

I would look at the blue clear sky and then at the blue clear sea.

A face would look at me, smiling for the first time in a while.