Under Lock

Streamers have dissipated, the world has been set anew.

Quickly forgotten, the celebration of the ‘other’ — me and you.

Pain, struggle, and hopelessness begin to settle back in.

For tomorrow, once more, our lives of servitude will begin.

I — well we — figurines in their menagerie fixed under lock,

Music silenced, bustling stilled, frozen until they knock.

Open the door with a fake smile while they greet me by name,

Simply going through the motions, but a rook in their game.

Devoid of self and understanding, wondering how it went wrong,

Two lovers interrupt to remind that this is their favorite song.

“Fetch this, entertain me, more drinks, and go bag that,”

As I stand here starving, they sit with their wallets growing fat.

They quickly compose themselves as they stagger back out the door,

We jump to, scattering to reset the stage, scrubbing refuse from the floor.

I am told this is my place in the world, but I know it is not for me,

Because I have no way to expel the truths that would set me free.