from the inside

To each their own
cell, no guard
except God if there is one,
no visitors
allowed inside, no fellow prisoners
for company - only a couple of windows
and these companionable walls,

through and over which you can stretch
your neck, strain your mind, sneak
a peek out. You can still catch a glimpse
of familiar space, in the dawning light
on a stranger's face. Well,

if anything's sacred, that must be it. If the piece
that you're holding won't ever fit, what if
somebody, somewhere, out in the cold has
a jigsaw gap, just the shape you hold...?
You can't fucking get it to them, though.
All you can do is describe it. And then they
can pretend they know
what it is you've told.

Ick.
Today's topic is
"Have you ever felt utterly alone?"
Yes, most always. Although
I am not the only one.