Trapped Poem by P.R. Prosper

I'm trapped

In a place so tiny I feel grimy just thinking about anything that's shiny
Don't mind me

I'm alone in a zone that was dead to the world long before I was unknown
Icicles on the bone

Melancholy's jollies peeling away feelings from the shadows I'm concealing
Revealing

Next to nothing I am something to hold on to like a schizophrenic mumbling
Slumping

In a sliver of a river 'tween the genius of a saint and psychosis of a sinner
And binger

Drunk and out to catch all the facts and the acts while my breath is doing laps
I'm trapped