I am six feet under the ground in a mouldy coffin
You sit on top of my chest and push me to the annals of hell
You don’t weigh much, but you are unbearably heavy
My body is boring a well through the red earth
Its surface – hard boned, jagged edges, soft flesh
All are scraping the earth, frantically reacting to your action
I cannot breathe, just vacuum; lungs pumped with nothingness
My skin is taunt, stretched so much you can see through it
Like a dying star, I am full of space but empty inside
You locked me here, you pushed me down, and you tore my mouth
Words won’t escape me, air won’t fill my lungs, and life won’t enter my body
I am nothing but the queen of mouldy mushrooms
And yet, nobody can see you; none but me.
Your sickening sweat runs through my blood, my soul, my life itself
But people say they can’t see you, they say I am a liar
They call me the princess, the saviour, the fairy queen
They can’t see I’m shut in an empty pod, trying to cry out
Words don’t help, they are meaningless. I want them to see.
My theatrics don’t help, my tears just merely waters the egregious gaze
I want nothing yet I want the one thing – The freedom to Scream.
To scream so much that blood splatters through my mouth
A scream so earth shatteringly shrill that it reaches the moon and beyond
I have something to ask you, Will you let me Scream?
Manastva 