Where once was innocence
He has replaced with
Dense aromas of incense
In a hollow basement,
Where time fights to breathe.

Aged through experience
He is caged into reluctance
From stepping beyond
What he’s attempting to flee.

So he fabricates appellations
With his fellow cell friends
Lives in his dreams, and
Through sharp, nonsensical prose
Always/never saying too much
Because it’s a hazy fiction that he follows
To avoid the images of what
Hurts him the most.