"Pain is the Price" Inspired by Silence:

Pain is the Price

The days are blurry,

and my timeline is broken.

Light could mean sun or moon or torch.

Food could come twice a day

or once every two days -- 

I don’t eat it anyway.

Sleep is indistinguishable

from the dulled awareness of open eyes.

My shadow has shrunk,

and my will is shriveling.

I forget about the plan --

the plan that hasn’t saved anyone yet --

and become each labored breath.

The guards wake me from slumber or stupor

with boisterous cheers

and the colliding of glass.

They’re louder than normal,

and this should mean something,

but I just want the silence restored.

Each explosion of noise

chips at my mind.

Instead of losing sanity,

I remember.

This is the plan.

I count between exclamations,

rising only when silence

starts to reclaim me.

My emaciated frame

is still too wide for the bars,

but I will not stay here.

Broken bones radiate a pain

less than that of being trapped.

Each step is work,

every breath is torturous,

still I go.

I go with the memories of those who can’t.

I go to live a life they never will.