METANOIA; poetry.

twenty

This town makes me feel claustophobic,

my ideas are way too big,

and my skull can't keep them 

in their place.

They don't want to hide anymore,

and I feel like a mother

arguing with her children for 

sneaking out at night;

but they're old enough.

Sometimes I think 

they're ready to face this scary world,

but are they?

Am I?