Make Shift Cell

Copyright, H

What makes me me?
Surely it’s not this THING i live in?
Skin and bone
I’m all alone
This shell
It does not feel
How do i know if it’s real?
If i’m real
Even when the blood pours form an open wound
A darker shade of red
Sticky, like treacle
I don’t feel a thing
I’m in hell
Forever trapped in my make-shift cell


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