I am my Prison.

Lonely moths chew on my spine,

A curious and puzzled wind

Tangles my thoughts.

I'm having a lonely moment.

Passing by I decide to force my way

Through the bars of my prison.

The grass is always some other

Color on the other side...

Such morbid woes, the mortal

Form recoils... Back...

Back to those happy days...

Those happy places... I sigh

and sit in my cell. Knowing

The windows are my eyes, and

The walls are me.