Prison Rot

She looks vacantly

through the glass

lost and broken,

empty and numb

She glares at the sun

blinded and aching,

burning and hurt

-

Her silence like thorns

prickle painfully against

paper-thin skin

wearing away barriers

like a cancer in the mind

-

And endless grey

bleeds behind her lashes,

seeping into flesh

like the steady staccato

of a leaky faucet

The smell of rot

permeates the walls

which she built

to hide

-

Her bed is a coffin,

leaking fumes

of formaldehyde,

the taste of methanol

heavy on her tongue,

just as the house

she dwells in

is a prison

consumed by rot.

-

This is the fifth poem in RE: SURGENCE, a poetry collection by Amanda Starks that shares what it's like to have and fight against mental illness in a free-form, lyrical prose.

Be aware that topics and themes may include suicide, self-harm, and isolation.

NEXT POEM:

PREVIOUS POEM:

If you want a free copy of RE: SURGENCE in an online, fully formatted PDF document, subscribe to my email newsletter at www.amandastarks.com, and it will be in your inbox once all the poems have been published here!