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Jan 2019
My skin is prison walls
My body is the inmate.
It’s a one-woman jail
Nobody pays my bail.

There’s no way out
In vain do I shout. / I can’t even shout.
This lack of choice
Has muted my voice.

My mind is the prison guard
She is omnipresent.
Her presence is less than pleasant.

My feet don’t really complain
Even my arms follow my brain.
Barbed wires made of thoughts
Erase this inmate’s hopes.
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