After ten, lights out
just as they do since my arrival,
often wondering, does the girl in
the next bed feel heavy as i do
when breath escapes, rising up cold
revealing itself in desperation.
Has anyone ever slept in this bed
My eyes rain like hurricanes
fast and meaningful but no one comes.
I am still my fathers princess
locked in a tower.
Creating this prison
it took work, choosing to walk these miles
it is black now, and the only sounds are
the jingling of keys
Against a free mans belt.
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