(tw for slight gore at the end)
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People in Cubes
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The world around me is made of cubes
And inside every cube lies a person
We’re all fed by little straws and tubes
But it only makes my condition worsen
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See, inside of each little cube we’re all stuck
But most of them are comfortable, curled up in the cube neatly
For me though, I was shoved in here, what luck
I ache, but I suffer discreetly
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My straws and tubes poke at my skin
I squirm and I fail to escape once more
My legs are poked by the hard end of my chin
Please let me out, it hurts more than a sore
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From my cube I scream and I wail
While the other cube people simply sit and stare
They say “that person can’t even sit in our boxes, how they fail.”
It’s just that it’s put on all incorrectly, but they don’t care
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Later in the day, where the walls press even tighter
It’s harder to breathe now, I must press my knees to my chest
The little child cube, me, tries to be a fighter
So I float up to my parents, also in cubes, to protest
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“Mother, Father, this cube is all wrong,
The fitting is ill and it hurts so much
I cannot even focus on song
I must get a new box so I may fit properly, live happily, and such.”
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Father cube simply floats and keeps quiet, silently judging
Mother cube turns turns red, and I know that inside she is shaking her head
A heavy feeling hits my heart, they’re not budging
Soon my mother speaks up, to say I’m mislead
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“That cannot be, my child, that cannot be at all
For the man of our boxes, our god, is never mistaken
He works hard to make sure everyone fits well when he answers our call
Now tell me who allowed your common sense to be taken.”
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Of course they’d think I’m wrong, opposing our god
For inside this cube it is impossible to see
This cube keeps up a disheartening facade
Of the wellness of me
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But inside of this cube, this second body of mine
I’m in pain, suffering, every single day
But the outside of the cube is smooth and sublime
So no one will believe me, because my outside is okay
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Dejectedly, I float back to my room
Wires and tubes still poking at my form
The lack of space squeezing my insides, enough to make me go boom
But no one will see it, as our normal cubes are the norm
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A whimper escapes me, quiet and alone
I cannot deal with the pain anymore, vibrating through my body with every heartbeat
Tears escape my eyes as I groan
It hurts, it hurts, I’m starting to feel like raw meat
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Oh Mother, oh dear, if only you could tell
How my legs are all bent and torn in this space
How my joints are all beginning to swell
Everything pokes at my skin, blood running down at a fast pace
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But I ignore it, and think that maybe they’re right
This is normal, a normal feeling for all of us
I close my eyes and sleep for the night
Somehow I drift into dreams without a fuss
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The next morning, I awake
With all of the pain gone
I’m so overjoyed I feel like I’m flying, perhaps my pain was a mistake
But the euphoria fades as I see what’s truly undergone
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I am out of this cube, this prison of mine
At least my soul, my heart, all in flight
The body that gave me pain to the nine
Is still in there, still tucked away in that place, out of sight
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I see it, what everyone else sees, the thing so smooth and perfect
A box without a single scratch, a single imperfection, the definition of beauty
Black with the most wonderful sheen, I can see it’s effect
Perhaps this is why no one thought I was suffering, since it looked like it was doing it’s duty
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I watch as the cube sits on the sheets of my bed
Holding my once breathing body, still covered
I watch as it’s still and unmoving, almost as if it’s dead
As soon as the sun rises I am discovered
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Mother sings a happy tune, Father behind her like always as they open the door
“Child, oh reflection of me, the sun is shining.”
I do not respond, for children in this state do not talk anymore
“Child, oh reflection of me, wake up without any whining.”
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Silence fills the room, Mother’s anger fills my fears
She shrieks and she bellows for the cube to wake
For the child inside to rise as normal, with no tears
But I do not wake, or even ache.
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Time passes, Mother and Father are worried
So against their better judgment, they open their cube to see the child inside
Shakily, they unlock my lid, and the truth is unburied
“MY CHILD, MY CHILD, MY PRECIOUS CHILD!” Mother cried.
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In their little cubes, they looked away at such a gruesome sight
But I was curious to see what I looked like
For it had been so dark in there, I was unable to see myself quite right
If I still had my body, I would have vomited in dislike
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Everyone had gone into their boxes perfectly perfect, healthy and strong
I had too, a well-balanced child with two legs and two arms
Fine proportions, limbs that were sturdy and long
But what I become set off all the alarms
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Twisted, mangled, and covered in blood, wires pierce through my infected flesh
Tears and blood pooled at the bottom of the box, streaming down from my empty eyes
Arms broken, bones warped, some cuts old and some fresh
But to me, this gruesome sight was not a surprise
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“Why, oh why didn’t you tell
We could have prevented this sooner, dear child
If you simply spoke of how you were unwell,”
Mother spoke to my limp body, now defiled.
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While Father cried, I heard her words
If I was still alive, I would have killed something when she spoke such things
However, sadly, I’m now with the birds
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