A Locked Room

CHRISTOPHER TANG

A Locked Room

My room,

these four walls,

a square that

defines me.

A shape that

is drawn into

memory,

a calculation

of uncertainty

and sleep deprivation.

And I’ll never leave.

Draw the curtains,

lock the door.

I’m not coming out,

even if the walls

around me crumble.

Because I’m locked in

my own head anyway.

A prison that confines me.

By Christopher Tang