Black Box

At the age of 3, my mother left me

Now obscure light is all I see

With blood masking my scraped knees

Inside the black box-

My father keeps me

If one could touch my sadness

It would slither like the sea

Around his waist-

There jingled a set of keys

Every night he leaves me spoiled tea

I feel the gaps between my ribs-

like a canopy

While being here, I take a risk

My speech now slurs

I speak with a lisp

My writing now falters

I harbor a broken left wrist

The room is small

I confide in its walls

There is a window above

I could reach it,

I am quite tall

I remove the idea from my mind

Maybe I belong here

Maybe this was my initial design

But one day-

I escaped

I hid in the darkest corner of the sea-

Like a shark

When my father came to leave his tea,

I managed to siphon one of his keys

It felt rusty, but I grabbed it

With it, I thrust him in his heart

Now it was him who fell to his knees

But when I tried his keys on the front door-

They drizzled into pyrite

I returned to my box,

Still black as a crow

I was born in darkness

And it will be all that I know