The moon is shining in my eyes
\nI can tell because the kid
\nat the end of the alley
\nsuddenly washes out
\nand I’m awake again.<\/p>\n
Now the rest of the night
\nlies around me like
\na fetid swamp:
\nI am mired in it up to my waist
\nand sleep is inside
\non the other side of the door.<\/p>\n
My pajamas hang on me
\nlike prison garb;
\nthrough the windows
\ninside is freedom
\npeople are blissfully
\nunaware that I am
\nbeing held illegally
\nin this swamp
\nI am locked out
\nwith no escape.<\/p>\n
My chest is weighted down
\nbreathing is part of the torture
\nmy feet are freezing and
\nthe swamp is not on any map
\nthere is no end
\nto this place,
\nno rescue will come
\nno lawyer will call
\nno embassy staff:
\nit is a life sentence
\nthis solitude.<\/p>\n
And the daytime
\nthat comes once every century
\nbecomes less real
\nas my brain pays the price
\nof this still sentence.<\/p>\n
The guard is asleep:
\nthe door stays locked.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The moon is shining in my eyes I can tell because the kid at the end of the alley suddenly washes out and I’m awake again. Now the rest of the night lies around me like a fetid swamp: I … Continue reading