Some days I sit.
I sit and sit.
For hours and hours.
My head in my hands.
I don't eat.
I don't drink.
I feel neither hunger nor thirst.
I imagine big, bold letters on my skin.
Branding me like cattle.
FAILURE
Other days I lay.
For hours and hours.
My head in my arm.
Sighs coming from my heart.
FAILURE
I see the road.
It's long and twisted.
My car has broken down.
I'm out of gas.
My legs are broken.
I'm trapped in the prison of my own mind.
FAILURE
great execution
of poetry, and it all comes to a head in line twenty-one. Very powerful and excellent use of metaphor. Well done