solitary

A really comfortable prison cell,

that's what I've built myself.

It's different than the usual grey walls,

barred windows,

prison food. 

It's the kind where I get to cook what I want,

use the bathroom when I want,

and even visit the outside.

But at the end of the day,

the door slams shut,

locked,

impenetrable social barriers, 

tyranny of distance.

The wardens of darkness patrol my mind.

I lie under my blanket,

staring at the cold, blank roof,

wondering how I can waste the day tomorrow

to distract me from these four walls,

this small space,

this tight trap.