The Box

You made me a box
It’s shiny and smooth
The edges are sharp
I run my fingers along grooves
They spell my name
It really is mine!
I can’t believe you made me my very own box
After all this time
You tell me, “get in!”
And so I do
I usually do what you say
Even if I don’t want to
It’s cold and stark
There’s nothing inside
Kind of represents what you think’s in my mind
I explore the box as I lay down my head
It’s rugged and hard
Nothing like you said
I thought it would be soft
Because so am I
I’m confused and unsettled, why?
Why have you made this box so small?
I can’t fit inside my talents and dreams
I can’t stand tall
There’s no space for my ambitions, my thoughts, or ideas
I feel something by my feet, what is this?
Down the end, you built in my fears
This isn’t at all where I pictured our home
A dark empty box
Where I lie all alone
You say that you love me
If you did, you would know
That my box has no walls
My box, it would grow
My box would be vast
Full of color and gleam
A safe place to be and to be seen
I never thought you’d have the nerve, the gall
To even for a second believe
That I belong in a box at all
After I leave, and you cross off my name
You’ll meet a new girl
And you’ll tell her the same
You’ll show her this box
The one you made me
You’ll deceive and pretend
Smile and plea
I hope when you’re done
Once you’ve finished your show
That she sees through your lies
And fucking says no