Minimalistic Pain

A steel box
Stainless for that minimalist touch

In case my blood drops
It’ll be real easy to clean up

A tornado of pretentious words and platitudes
A storm of unspoken emotions and digested traumas

Keep me shackled in this box that has no opening

Inherently luminant
Reflecting off itself

A straight jacket so fashionable
What is a trend but a system of control?

Freedom only in my self-infliction

But you would have to get close to see my pain
Close enough to see these chains

To understand how we are the same

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