Room I've Made

The Room I've Made (written 2000)
I am a claustrophobic room, afraid of my long-stale, wrongly-stayed interior. I choke on my lost waste that salivates with exhaust taste. My anatomy jabs at me to see out the tiny window the size of a key. Peering I become appalled at the unwalled domain. A jeering first impulse to crack open this hole is halted by the steering stop of my lack of soul. "I do, I do powerfully want to posses that breeze that will break the freeze of this icebox." I beg, "Please, please give me release for ease to peace. I'll repent for just a scent of that air out there." And then doubt whispers in my ear with help from his friend fear, "Yes, it's true, wind will come in but so will rain too, and its always better to stay dry even though we're blue."
So I listened to my long-stayed, wrongly-stale friends of misfortune as I turn pale in the room I've made.