I used to write much more in HS.  I can only think of one other poem I wrote in the last 10 years at least.  

My Straight Jacket

Paralyzed by Leukophobia

This jacket is the color

of a blinding blizzard white out

The jacket protects you from yourself and

protects others from you.

But nobody muzzled me.

And since I can’t move my emotional arms

I lash out w/ my words

Even self preservation reflexes

in excess, are destructive.

Nobody else can see it.

Yet my Higher Power knows it’s there.

You’d think I’d learn, only he can remove it, heck even loosen it.

It’s too tight and to fill my lungs with life is hard. 

Realization.

I know it’s there. 

The mirrors everyone else held up to me

Reflections clouded by smoke.

I had to actually look at myself. 

Like my childhood out of body experiences

To see that white cloaking my heart.

Each grommet independent yet held tight

Each stitch, additionally restrictive.

Bindings I can’t cut with out endangering myself,

Hell I can’t even reach them.

Remove it too fast

Too much will rush in.

Overwhelmingly.

One grommet, one day, at a time.

Each day I can breathe a little deeper.

Each breath provides hope.

With an introspective tomorrow.

God may someday release the knot,

Relaxing the bindings just enough.

That my white jacket of fear

Will not restrict my every movement.