I Am

The longing in my bosom

is not bolder than the 

meekness that is there.

I am trapped by it.

there is no key to

my prison just the

lock I have made. 

I will not be the

victim to my own 


I surely have enough

experience in that area 

with you.

I am not the weak,

stupid female you see 

me as. 

I am like Eos 

and Lucy but

you see me 

as Ms. Bates.

No delight in me

you see just the defects

the constant breaking of 

this organ is a ritual.

I will be gone in due time 

will you let out a sigh of 

relief or will I.

This poem is about: 


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