We tell ourselves no wholesome truth
guarded by many negative affirmation,
as if the juvenile lies we uttered in youth
inspired some sort of revelation.

We find ourselves locked in prison cells,
unable to find a logical way out.
(I have been told that) heavens and hells
are places we mustn’t do without.

I look around the perimeter of the space
and at the faint scars that rest on my wrist,
wondering if I’m able to win this arms race
or if I’ve been put on this earth simply to exist.

And with no predetermined expectation
I posed a question, to which my cellmate replied
that the cause of his incarceration
was the selfish act of suicide.