Words Revised

Your words held me prisoner. 

Like Andy Dufresne,

I was held captive despite my innocence.
Like him, I was a convict of the circumstances.
A convict living within the boundaries of your mind.
And I peered out of the cage,

Always dreaming of the Pacific that remembers nothing.

I dreamt of a wave that would wash away my memory as it crashed.

I could have looked upon this as inevitable,

Just bad luck, and perhaps it was.

But I dreamt so vividly of a life with possibilities
And I wondered how it could have ever been reality.

We are not victims of circumstance,
We are warriors in our own lives.
Sometimes holding nothing
But words on a crinkled page.