Spongy walls and arms
wrapped tightly,
bright lights and doors
bolted shut
gently stagnating life lies
behind them.
Because he'd rather do the
easy thing
than the smart and
doesn't care
who knows or frowns or
runs their
fingers round and round
the edges
of what he claims
to think
and quite desperately
wants to
believe.
Trapped, he sits as his
own obsessions
consume and carress him
kindly enforcing
what he knows and hates and
loathes/(loves?).
It's safe to say he has
commitment issues.
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