Almost
It’s hard,
life outside the wall.
Dull and muffled;
pain and want and
hope and fear and need
almost forgotten.
It’s quiet.
It’s lonely.
It’s safe.
And,
I don’t want to pretend anymore.
Don’t wanna wait for a jagged piece of sunlight
to spill over the chained mess of me in waiting.
Don’t wanna will myself numb, gray, cold
until there’s nothing left–
but the wall.
