Though you’d never admit me to be justified

in saying “no,”

I think you know why I’m doing this.

Too often

I catch you staring at me, wanting me,

but never know how to say

what I have to say.

Sometimes I think you’re doing this on purpose,

Locking me up inside.

With no light seeping through.

My skin turning pale,

My hope being lost.

Leaving me by myself,

A world so alone.

I feel trapped in a prison,

Who is this girl I see in the mirror?

This girl’s eyes full of fear, caused by

Demons whispering in her ears.

Scared one day their words won’t be lies.

She holds on, trying not to cry.

Each day wanting to die,

She finally cries.

Imagine yourself in a room full of balloons in a variety of colors, all with little white string.

Each balloon is an event; a lunch with friends, a family reunion, a party, a date.

I break down in the supermarket grocery aisles

because I only have five minutes to make the choice

between a variety of granola bars.