Eggs and Shells

I wanna feel like I have a place -
A place to spread my wings,
My limbs, my mind - expand
My lungs - to breathe easy,
Easier than walking on eggshells
Around the queens and princesses that
I'm subject to - and yet I am grateful to be
In their court - to have a chamber
To call home... but I want more!
Is that ingratitude?

The mold, mustiness and mildew
Of my "chamber" dungeon is
Creating headaches - my head aches to
Think, to dream, to imagine more than
What's all around me in the four walls of
The cell I occupy - break free from this -
Run, jog, maybe just walk since my
Muscles have atrophied and I don't know
If they could withstand the discipline of
Being used for more than just support.

Supported by the perfume that masks
The reality of the pain the headaches
Cause from that masking perfume.
Nothing stinks more than phoniness.

I hold court with queens and princesses and
We're all phony from not speaking the truth
About what stinks and give us headaches...
Walking on eggs and their shells.