no more than a cubicle

you talked to the chair, the table, the door –
you had to, out of necessity, because that was
all there was

you thought the world was just this big,
and nothing more beyond it

nightmares penetrated your dreams when you
were forced to sleep in the closet

feral-like in this non-wilderness –
crayons lined up for protection

symbiosis of love between mother and son
… enough

but freedom –
a foreign word

(Plot of ‘Room’ by Emma Donoghue)

Cristy Watson, 2021