Dungeon Duty

I live in a dungeon,
a mental one at that,
with no windows
and one tiny light
swinging w
                e
                 a
                  r
                   i
                    l
                     y
                        back and forth overhead;
moisture seeps through
these porous walls and
into my lungs, giving me
the motivation to breathe
in the death of life and
become renewed in a
spirit of self from long ago;
curtains of despair have
all been removed from my grasps
for fear of escape out a window,
and bugs bit my ankles,
leaving itchy welts in positions
not easily scratched in
time to prevent swelling;
black cats nightly roam
and stalk my vision but
never attack as it is always too
early to share their myths
and remedies...   and,
screech owls hoot out
the arrival of the day, their
claws scratching out my
to see again so quickly.

15Oct14