If I could eat through these walls of hard bone
to find an exit from my dingy cave
then my jaw might clamp onto some unseen zone
that leaves me with fresh strategies to save.
I know that soon my gnawing teeth will yield
when they start to pierce the layer of thick skin
that's worn so thin it can no longer shield
my empty vessel from the mess I'm in.
I've come to terms with my fruitless escape
now that I've noticed I'm my own jailer
and if this prison is one I can't reshape
then I will remain wrapped up in failure.
But I will still keep biting at my skull
for my restless stomach is never full.
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