THE CAGE OF FREEDOM

what I want

I'd like

I'd like to say that I would cry myself to sleep. I'd like to say that I would run 'till my legs give up. I'd like to say that I would scream 'till my throat ache. I'd like to say that I would be afraid before death. I'd like to say that I'm feeling like a running bomb.

I don't have

But the true is that I don't have the time to cry myself to sleep. I don't have the energy to run 'till my legs give up. I don't have the voice to scream 'till my throat ache. I don't have anchors in live to be afraid of death.

I feel like I'm turning stone.
A physical feeling.

All of me

All my tears buried in my pillow's graveyard. All my energy wasted in get out of bed. All my voice muted by stoic adults. All my fear focused in humans.

Have I shut down?

I have

I have beg in lonely nights when stoic adults sleep and there are no humans around. I have daydream about running 'till I collapse. I have tried to talk racional arguments with stoic adults who only scream irational anger. I have laugh at death's face when he rejected me.

Have death ever fear me?
Have god?

Have stoic adults ever look at me and see a reflection of themself?

When does fear turn into anger?
When does determination turn in resignation?
When all turn into nothing?