Touched

written in solitary confinement

A tiny window
in a tiny room
tethers me to a life i cannot live.
A sink and a bunk
and a toilet reside,
but insanity's moving in.
I feel flush.
There's nothing to keep me from going crazy
passing this time on my own.
I can't remember is it's still September.
How many more days to go?
Am I touched?
Has the hand of insanity
taken hold of me?
Am I touched?
Am I touched?
Am i going
goddamned crazy
alone, just me
and my mind?
How can i flee
this reality?
I long to be
in another frame of time.
I need to shave again.
I don't remember when, or how long it's been
since the last time.
I think too much.
If I go back to sleep I might wake up in a week
and this all will have been a dream
about someone who's not me.
But sleep has become a crutch.
Am I touched?
Am I touched?
Am I going
goddamned crazy
alone, just me
and my mind?
Has the hand of insanity
taken hold of me?
Am I touched?

--conn