About prisons.

Minions,I can't breath! Some days, I'm overcome with ferocious basic need to fly, just to jump out of the viscosity of my thoughts and fly, through light air, open air, air that does not cling pulling me back into the swamps of my head, air that does not weigh me down. I am overcome by a ferocious, basic, animalistic, vital for survival need to fly, to the point that my shoulder bones tingle with the anticipation of wings sprouting any moment, to the point that my heart cracks loudly with disappointment every time wings don't. I am overcome by a ferocious, basic, animalisitc, vital for survival, heart hitching, lungs constricting, muscles tightening need to fly, to the point that every inch I don't gain in flight is added to the lumps in my throat that quickly ascend to tears in my eyes.... and then even those are kept prisoners not provided or providing release; to the point that every second I don't take off turns into years' rust sealing the grip of my chains further. Minions, I can't breath, it's too heavy being locked in here. I need to fly.