My Vacant Soul (written 8-25-2010)

I sit here,

alone,

but surrounded,

my mind is vacant,

but the room is packed,

My body is cold,

but the room is warm.

I am still,

but the room is wriggling,

surrounded by these vermin,

secluded by the proper,

overwhelmed by the simplicity,

understanding the complicated.

This vacant cell is such a mess,

writing scrawled on the walls,

disappearing as I try to read,

I'm so lost in this tiny space,

My mind cannot process,

the supposed processed.