These Three Walls

These three walls are closing in

like an ancient booby trap,   

spikes anxious to impale and

drain the dreams from my body.

My sad reflection dissipates

when the blank screen bleeds to blue,

derogating my existence to an

inked identity on a perforated stub.

Through the corporate window,

clouds roil with abandoned passions

in hopes that I will loosen my noose

and dance in their Renaissance rain.

But

My once-radioactive heart has turned to lead,

an internal anchor formed from conformity,

keeping me frozen like an ungodly gargoyle statue

as these three walls continue to close in.