Prick me

I am the zebra

You have painted me

Black and white

I am the cracked tea pot

Displaying a hint of soul

In deep, bleeding hues

I am the oranguatan

Pointing and laughing

At my own reflection

Haggard, singing the blues

I am the put-together woman

Not your average mechanical doll

Stuffed with straw

Prick me, I will not bleed

I will bleed out

Scream and shout

Silently for serenity

Equal opportunity

I would not have you know

Battle scars faintly line weary arms

The sun grants absolution

For past sins against the self

I will not

Be placed into a box

Molded, formed, shut

Silenced for too long

Gossamer strong

Shackles cannot trap

The wings of a soul

Weeping, bleeding, pleading

Singing resiliently for freedom

I am many things but

I am not yours