My Little Editor

My Little Editor
By: James Dubeau

Drifting off
As the night surrounds me
My fingers want to dance
Need to dance
Upon the keys
Laying out my deepest thoughts
And feelings
And emotions
Bare to the world
In the far back corner
An tiny little man sits
Horn rimmed glasses
Perched upon his tiny nose
“No!” he shouts
Slamming down his pencil
“The world is a dangerous place
One must not bare their soul
Or else they will suffer
The consequences of actions”
Words have never been so true
Keeping me contained
Protected behind this wall
Built of concrete
Three feet thick
Safe from the outside world
The dangers
And ridicule
Protected
In this cell
Built up
Around me