I sit here,
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.
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