A glass box

Four walls.

One above me.

One below.

Two to the sides.

A glass box that allows me to see out into the night.

To watch the people around me.

They crawl over my box.

I press into the back of the box.

Desperate to escape their scrutiny.

Oh, they don’t see me.

Or my eternal cage.

They step up onto the box

and continue on their way.

I watch wide-eyed as they wrinkle and droop,

skin sagging toward the wormy earth.

They never see me there.

Watching. Never taking part.

I breathe in the air of my prison.

It sustains me but not more.

I watch as it turns to dust.

Forever encapsulated.

Free to leave but never daring escape