I\'m listening to the silence,
Hand pressed up against the glass
Of my contained box,
While my soul struggles on
Through the lashing rain,
Feet sliding and slipping,
Through trails of pain.
Fingernails raking on my skin,
Leaving rivulets of red
Streaking dirty blood,
I\'m trying - please believe me,
There\'s nothing more to give.
I only wish for respite
From this storm,
Open arms of belonging,
To find a heart a home,
Unearthing someplace warm.