I am a theif of confidence to supplement my own.
Hiding behind foe furs and fake fangs,
fighting the darkness in this unforgiving home.
I am not alone.
I am a key without a lock, in a cell without a door.
My arms wont open up and my legs wont run away,
as my voice begins to raise and my control begins to fade.
I am not aware.
I am the Pied Piper of mixed meaning keeping truth to his own.
I have been followed for five miles by my frozen, winded breath,
with a message in a bottle for someone I've never met.
I am not available.