claustrophobe.

A castle, a fortress, with walls on all sides.
The clock keeps on ticking, my time I must bide,
carefully waiting for my soul to take flight
whilst my heart finds refuge in the blackest of night.
Words come to mind as a thought, like a shiver
flooding my head like a powerful river.
The cold sets in - a ghost - and I quiver.
I'm a shell of myself, a piece of a sliver
Left between walls screaming of pain,
laughing at my failure, glaring with disdain.
My soul is my only chance of escape
from this prison to which the door lies agape.
Open, as I may leave when I please,
but inside, my fears, they taunt and they tease.
Knowing that I could leave with ease
but choose to stay where I am.