A place from which you can’t escape is prison.
A place to which you must return is prison.
The space between the place where you were born
and everywhere you fear to go is prison.
Your shame has strapped a saddle on your back
and whipped your ass to ride you back to prison.
Their faces — all the ones you can’t forgive —
become the guards who lock you in your prison.
Pull back the shades; reveal the fragile glass
that forms the razor fence around your prison.
What taste now aches within your bitter palate?
What sweetness haunts your memory in this prison?
You see your lover standing at the gate.
You wave to her — but turn into your prison.