Peacock blue hair
In a stripe down her scalp
To match the puncture wounds
On her face and ears
Adorned with diamond studs.
There are no shackles on her
Ink-stained wrists
Only the permanent artistic expression
Of her choosing.
All of which
Create the prison
She doesn’t know she’s in.
I enjoyed this very much. It’s got a really strong feeling to it, but also kind of hits hard at the end — sort of a reminder of how we all sometimes end up questioning our choices and individuality.