My heart and soul,
Lay encased within steel walls.
They are mere glass prisoners,
Who fear their fall.
For if they fell, I fell –
The components of my being shattered.
The sharp points of glass,
Cutting me up until tattered.
“I’ve worn the mask so long I don’t feel safe without it.”

My prison my sanctuary,
These walls my only friend;
Rocking back and forth in solitude,
Thinking my “safety” didn’t have an end.
You appear empathetic;
Oh so easily you traversed my walls!
How you want me to leave my security,
But I have no desire at all.
“Of course, it’s a prison. There’s no trouble getting in. The problems will come when we want to get out.”

You sit in my prison,
Beside my damaged, preserved self.
Patiently you wait with me,
Till I finally reach out for help.
This is not what I want!
To die having worn a camouflaged mask!
I want to feel and love and trust once more -
Tell me how to accomplish this task!
Let us live.
Where the walls may be fragile glass,
But the prisoner is strong,
And made of steel.
“I wear the mask, it does not wear me.”