Trapped

My mind is trapped in a box where I don't know if who I am is who I was or will be or of I even am in the first place. I am painfully aware but the never ending pull, the lure of the electronic buzz, the longing to escape my box only pushes me further in. I look at the clock again and again every single hour passing in seconds the clock cannot speak and yet it pushes me further in, it taunts me. And as I continue taping up the walls, covering my breathing holes and making it harder to differentiate real from fake, father times stares me in my eyes and he tells me he will eat me too, he's hungry and waiting and I do nothing but tape up my walls, making myself helpless, serving myself to him on a silver platter.