Creativity is flowing,
See the ideas gleam.
But, as soon as you sit down to work it’s as if everything stops.
Stuck in time.
You can’t move.
You’re not allowed
The pressure to feel good,
the pressure to look good;
gathering in a small box and running out of room for air.
How am I supposed to go further,
if I can’t move?
They tell you, go ahead move.
but they watch until there’s butterflies on your wrists for even taking a step.
Their eyes are as sharp as razor blades,
digging themselves into your flesh.
Suddenly now I’m in the box.
and the pressure is coming in.
I stop trying
My legs are chained to the chair.
The only way to be free
is to hide.