boxes

Boxes, lines, angles.
Cages, walls, corners,
Restrictions, borders.
No one put me in this pen
But me.
God set me on the Earth and said
“The world is yours.
Get out there and dominate it.”
I scratched my head,
Scratched lines in the sand,
Said “I’m good, thanks.”
And God said, “For fuck’s sake.”
He gave me a world without walls
And it frankly scared the crap out of me.
So I built my own walls,
And I see the world
Through grimy window-panes,
Through boxes and lines and limitations.
I say it’s all good—
But it isn’t , really.
I’m a coward in a box
Of packing peanuts.
Safe.
And bored outta my goddamn mind.

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3 thoughts on “boxes

  1. This probably comes out of left field, but I was just thinking the other day about how we all really *do* have to build walls around ourselves, as a necessary defense mechanism. Otherwise, we have no buffer against all the junk that life constantly throws at us from all sides. Proverbs 25:28, and all that.

    On another note, if you’re still looking for “something to do” (I’m referencing ‘I go to work, I come home, and then I go to bed. Repeat,’); I could use a little help trying to figure out how to restructure my blog site here. I mean, two heads are better than one, you know? Basically, it’s no longer so much about the musical I’ve been writing, but the expression “Eden in Babylon” seems to be taking on a broader, more spacey meaning. So all the pages need to be revamped, and I get a little dizzy trying to keep track of it all.

    Lemme know if anything I just said sparks your interest. I love your writing, by the way.

    1. So true–so many mistakes and wounds could be prevented by a little good judgement. That being said, I struggle with knowing how to discern when healthy boundaries have gone too far, and become a heart that his hardened by trials and tragedy, a la Hebrews 3:8.

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