Unfair.

she screams herself hoarse,
and then some.
raw emotion boils to the surface,
the calm facade torn to shreds
in one violent, impulse of rage.
she sees red.
the worst part is, she knows she's not wrong,
and yet her actions drive her deeper
and deeper into a pit of consequence,
further and further past the point
of no return.
in this place, between these walls,
she is powerless, she has no voice.
there is no jury, only a biased judge,
and at times, it seems as though
all forces are conspiring to work against her.
one day, someday, she'll break away.
she'll leave behind all that oppressed her,
all that sent her to bed with seething, fuming
thoughts that kept her up at night,
and nightmares she should have had
were evident in the dark that shadowed her face
by the cold light of day.
yes, she'll walk away from it all,
and she will never. look. back.