The worse part of despair is feeling like it is permanent. You are sentenced to life in prison. Nothing can be done.
When I look back on my years there, I can still feel the suffocation of that narrow place.
But now, I can marvel at my escape; that all I had to do was puncture the wall of my confining beliefs, reach outside it, and defy the rigid worldview that held me captive.
Mercy was always closer than I thought
But for years I reached for it
To find only a cryptic note
From someone I didn’t know
That, if translated, would read
I shrank and squirmed instead
Until I understood the cryptic note
For what it really said