subtext

Condemned to a life

of controlled contentment:

to do what’s expected;

to play the proper part;

to exist not live

within this labyrinth,

I translate my loss of self

into a cleaner line stripped

of loose tangential talk,

one where I could rise out

of my self-loathing,

attempt to fly on the wings

of a stereotype so simple

no explanation would be asked

after the unremarked crash.