Prose: Cage by Becca Vincenza

Soooo I wrote a piece of prose just because. And I wanted to share it so… enjoy. 

(prose is just a very – very – short piece, usually just thoughts)


By: Becca Vincenza

            It’s hard. I am trapped. I am screaming.

            Always screaming.

            Screaming. Screaming. Screaming. You can’t hear it. And that is okay. No matter how close you are, you will never hear it. I cry. I plead, but I am voiceless. Inside this body I call home do I find myself the most lost. Here I wish I could escape.

            I don’t feel eyes on me, never that. No. I feel the lack of looks. The totally ignorance of my being. Those who see me tell me all the time the lines. The lines, the lies. I know they care. I know they mean well.

            Being alone has become my worst enemy. My sanctuary gone and destroyed by my own insecurities. I sit in the ruins and hope that in time I can rebuild. For now I scream. For now I cry. For now I plead.

            To be trapped here. To be trapped in my own mind. Never allowed and escape. To never be allowed that slight bit of freedom. A weight I carry. A weight that will not leave me. Here I plea. Here I writher. Here I have broken dreams.

            Don’t cry for me. Don’t try to save me. My freedom comes at a cost. My cage is of my own making. And yet I remained trapped. I can feel freedom all around me. I can touch the breeze, but nothing will save me.

            It’s hard. I am trapped. I am screaming.


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