Can I?

Can I still speak,
and call my voice my own?

Do I have to be afraid
of what my words will do?

Will you stay,
if I show you my mind?

When can I be honest,
if all you do is call me a liar?

What's the difference,
when everything's in shades of gray?

Why do I care,
when I should just let go?

Am I still me,
if I let you choose my words for me?

I have so many questions,
and no answers.
Not sure if I trust you.
I don't even know if I trust me.

Spiraling down,
down,
down,
fade to black.

A messy,
twisty turny unknown scary
labryinth.
No exit.

My head is a disaster,
my thoughts are all jumbled.
Every time I open my mouth,
stuff pours out that I don't want to say.

I feel like a bird that's lost its wings.
Trapped in a cage made of unspoken words.
So much, but yet it's still not enough.

I'm breaking right now,
and for once,
I just want to let myself be not ok.