Talking like you, walking like you
as I am required to do means life
without joie de vivre, when I voice
my excitement I must tone it down

Talking in an even, expressionless
voice makes you happy while this
oppresses my spirit - suppresses
the joy I feel bubbling inside

Which only explode in a happy
low but it is forbidden at home, I
must tippy-tippy-toe, tippy-tippy
toe around everything until life

Is so boring - I hope somebody
would kill me or I might fall in an
eternal swoon - whatever would
take me away from all this -

So secure, so calm and with-
out fun - hanging on just to get
more of this is an absurd joke:
buried while still breathing

Margaret Alice Second

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/buried-while-breathing/