Boxes
Pitch black. I feel the walls on every side of me, above me, and below me. I’ve been trapped before, but it seems like the walls have grown taller, more dense, more suffocating. I start punching and kicking my way out. And as I kick, I grow, until I’ve become too big for the box to contain. I don’t fit inside your box anymore. I never did, but now it’s clear to you.