caged

I am trapped in the confines of a world too small for my exploding desire, my big love, my heavy passion. 

My body seems too small to hold me all in. 

I am overflowing and uncontainable.

My mind dances, bursts with need to make, to create. 

The expression of nothing, and everything, waits. Caged. 

Such a little place, so fragile and inadequate. 

Can a mind rupture? 

Can an imagination collapse in on itself if not given some release? 

Can one suffocate, or drown, for lack of an arty escape? 

Can a heart erupt if muted for too long? 

Can beauty and love and goodness pool, well up, accumulate to such a mass that it may cause it's holder to shatter?