My Walls

These walls that keep me closed in, backed into my corner. These walls of mine that are
bland. Each exactly the same as the other. There is no light but I can see through my fingers,
alas I have not use for sight anymore, I have seen all there is to feel in my little square. This is
all there is, this wonderful room made of my protective walls. The warmth of safety envelops
me and I let myself fall into a dreamless sleep, vulnerable sprawled out the way I am. But it’s
okay because the walls are there.

-Zoe