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My Cell
October 23, 2013
The air is heavy on my skin.
The foul odors of my neighbors
Waft through the steel bars
Filling my nose with their stench
The stiff, old bed
Is hard on my back
A stained white stone
The cracked cement walls
Absorb hope from my eyes
As I grasp their impermeability
The taunts and the screams
Rattle through my skull
I can no longer tell which ones are real
I taste the hot salt of my tears,
And this is reality.
© Emily E., Marblehead, MA
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