Poem: Broken

(In continuous edit)

Days and days pass. Alone. Contained.
I sit in a prison I created for myself.
I accept it. It is inescapable. Sound. Secure.
I listen to the silence as I sit between its cold, white walls.

It's best dear friend that you do not visit me in my hell.
There are demons in the darkness. Ominous cries that echo in the long, narrow halls.
I would not wish this solitary on anyone. It's madness.
I accept it. I will do time here. Healing.
I am undone by it.

I am half the person I once was.
I have learned to look once again in the mirror of my soul.
Who am I? I repeat this in my head as I glue the shards of myself one fragment at a time.

Broken? Perhaps.

Forever? Likely.

Sing your songs in the bright light of day.
Run free in the grass and sand of your village.
Think nothing of my life. Think nothing of me.
I look around my closed space.This is my new life.
I will sit here quietly and write my story.

I accept it. I embrace it.
Best you not visit me in my hell.