Window

I'm staring out the window thinking nothing I'm watching myself think in the faded reflection of myself in the world of mirrors in the glass I'm thinking about my grades and my friends' opinions about love in my life and how it does and does not fit and I don't want to turn away because I'll go down the hall that is my protal to hell and my reflection will walk out into the world where I feel I belong so I'm still staring out the window now beyond myself at the wind through the trees the clouds passing by and the birds now my friends are here talking but their voices don't reach me although I hear them talking still looking out the window I feel the unknown sadness as I have before welling up and threatening tears pushing against the glass I'm wanting to pass through like a ghost and I would stand out there on the balcony and listen to the sounds of the wind and I would unconciously lean off into the wind and fall onto the grass below I would bleed and bones would break and pain would fill me and I would laugh with joy but I cant because I never pass through no matter how much I push against the glass so I'm still inside still protected from the dangers I live for and they believe they are protecting me but being in here is the most dangerous thing they could ever force me to do although I'm surrounded by friends I still feel so sad I'm sick I can feel my stomach turning but I can't talk I can only write and if I write it all they'll turn me over to the psychiatrists that don't really want to help they just want to get paid and keeping quiet only builds up the pain that is almost comforting now and I won't sound selfich by complaining to the adults that don't understand and don't care and don't concider what effects being iside will have on someone what will happen to the quiet one that's an ear to the world and hates talking about herself and never goes anywhere, even outside? They don't see that always feeling confined is making death more appealing.