My Prison

My sealed lips are the doors,
Keeping me in.
My wrists-the cell walls,
Scratched and carved.
My skin's my straight jacket,
Driving me insane.
Why won't you free me,
From this prison,
From my personal pain.
You can visit for awhile,
But then you'll have to leave.
We can talk on the phone,
But the glass keeps us apart.
Cold and cracked,
This glass is my heart.