bunny in a box

it isn't easy being quiet being insignificant and silent it's not easy being the dirty secret like I'm road kill or an injured bunny being kept in a box by a 7 year-old and I'm just waiting to kick the bucket I'm in a brown-and-smudge-stain cell and no one really knows me well enough to get me some air and a pocket knife, too I think the walls are closing in or maybe I'm just getting too big getting too old for my mental mind jail an no one knows me well enough to pay for my bail too bad I can't have a defense and too bad I'm more confused than you are about myself and too bad I never had a voice to argue with the ones who hold up the walls while I try to break them down and sometimes when I pound against the dead tree cells or even play connect-the-dots I swear that sounds get louder and louder and distorted then other times they're mearly a thud like there's someone on the other side trying to put their ear against the box and whoever it is let me tell you... it's getting pretty f--king cramped in here and get me a flashlight, toonormally, I don't like to cencor stuff. but I don't want to get into any trouble... if any... my parents are quite lenient on me, but I just wish they'd give me more mental and personal freedom. anyway. yea. I'm tired. nite. Written August 10th, 2001 © on Nov 12 2001 12:48 PM PST   18 • 0 • 14