Ironic Ensnarement

Walls of ice.

Spires of concrete.

Ramparts and moats.

All defences I've built

To keep some things out

And other ones in;

To reinforce the membrane

That was wearing too thin;

To hold off and negate

And prevent oversharing;

To nullify pain

And attentuate caring.

These cunning devices

Made to suit the specifics

Of my assailants' attacks 
And wily artifices,

I've found to be cruel

And treacherous in turn

Since now that I'm ready to open up, 
I learn

That this source of protection

Has become a trap

From which I cannot escape 

No matter how hard I tap

Against the barred windows

Or pick at the locks.

This prison's only answer

Is to jeer and to mock.

And so here I am

A fairytale in reverse

A prince in a tower

Needing deliverance from a curse.