Smoke screens and filters here
Trapped in a mirrored box
Am I here? Or over there?
Maybe I enjoy the delusion
The perpetual confusion
This deathless torture,
Oh my God, I need to breathe
I'm suffocating, failing,
I need to leave
Eloquent spider webs of words
the way you weave them, so silvery
you're artistic but I'm hesitant to believe
I'm just a tiny dancer inside your jewelry box
Wind me up, move me to the music you make
Don't push me too hard, I may bend, I'll break
Be gentle with the muse you didn't create
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