Cocoon

Encased in a confined space,

My body immobile,

Beset by my worries, fears, and tears,

Creating the illusion of permanence,

But if only my paralyzed hands could

Reach and see its only paper.


The transparent walls surrounding me,

Reveal the world that awaits,

If only I could claw my way

Out of these unwavering paper confines,

But my mind has convinced me of the

Walls' permanence.


My fingers, buried in the cement layed

By my false pretenses and assumptions,

That cloud my mind with their nebulous

Haze, permeating through my pores like

Oil seeps through tissue paper,

I am my own biggest weakness.


But the cocoon enveloping me

Is not exempt from the coarse hands

Of time. Nothing is permanent, and I

Will squirm and flail until I burst through

The paper walls encasing me,



...into something beautiful.