Muse</i>

I can feel him
Moving inside me
He writhes and twists
It makes my skin itch
I seek release
Some form of relief
He leers at me
From within his cage
I know then
He will not be
Contained. “Help!”
I want to cry out
But his hold, like iron
He keeps me in place
So I sit
I watch
I wait
It will only be a matter of time
Before my release
From the hold
He keeps from within


This weather makes me depressed. The endless gray and everything just being cold and wet all the time. It gives me this awful nagging feeling that I'm trapped. It always passes with the weather but I hate feeling trapped at all. Speaking of trapped, I need to get my paper outlined and mapped out a bit better. Oh Skinner, you're lucky you're easy to read and understand.