Internally

As my throat was burning a hand appeared next to me, and I took it.

A sense of stabilization, a sense of something --

It was what was needed.

After my eyesight cleared I realized that I was, indeed, unstable.

I'll wrap my arms around anything that wanders close, I suppose.

But when they wander away, I feel strange watching them depart.

Perhaps I see significance in everything.

Perhaps --

But it is this kind of thinking,

This kind of insouciant meddling with the walls I have constructed,

That causes --

But, God damn it, I'm not protected, I'm entrapped.

Perhaps I've built a home, perhaps it is a prison.

I cower within this Bastille,

This fortress, this prison.

I'm done with this place.