Box

​

By Thursday it had been forty-eight hours since

​

I had seen anybody else. It was just me

​

and the groan of the pipes that grow up my walls. 

​

I had one too many under-the-duvet bedroom meals. 

​

Through the window I heard other people's lives. 

​

I listened to the news approximately twenty-two times

​

(once for every year of my life). 

​

When I watched a comedy my laughter sounded like tears. 

​

They say solitude makes you go mad after a while and actually 

​

I did feel too scared to step from my box to the bathroom

​

so I brushed my teeth with a glass of water and spat into the night. 

​

If that was madness it was really quite liberating.