Box

I am in a glass box
in the middle of a crowd
and I am banging
and banging and shouting
and no one can hear me,
no one can see me,
because there is an image
on the outside of the box
of me, smiling
happy and together
and they all think
that one
is real.

Sometimes I feel that even
if they did see me,
or I got out
and I smashed the glass
box into a million pieces,
then I’d still feel
like this,
because in my head
there is another box,
and inside
another me.