In Mind's Eye
- Ann Wallace
- Feb 20, 2020
- 1 min read
Published in Trillium, Volume 12
This place is a box,
The walls the width of a retina.
The screen shows familiar things
That I can’t recognize.
At what point am I allowed
To yank the handle
Of the unlocked door,
Or do I pretend to belong
To this cell until it dies?
Or maybe
I use this prison to scream
Echoes to the world
Of what exists within,
Yet without,
The tangible.
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