My mind

My mind is in a cage, trying to be free,

even though you've smoothed it down to its basic functions.

It is still wandering,

clawing at the clouds that used to be me back then and around.

Even with the anxiety,

I miss feeling me,

and one day I will break free from the melancholy of this world that you hand me.

I will cross that line,

even if it breaks me every time,

no matter how much you try to stop me.

I might die, but in the end it still will be mine mind.