Poetry

Closed in

These four walls, keep me inside

not knowing or seeing what is going on outside.

The air holds an familiar scent

and no one can hear me from here

not even realize the time I’ve spent.

In here, where I am away

from the way, the words you say

pain me, or even how my voice is not helping

No breath

comes out

and blood flow is felt

stopping

is this my death?

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