This place is cold. It is desolate.
There lay remnants of what used to be.
In this place I feel out of place.
I feel like I shouldn’t be here.
I am surrounded by walls.
Being kept away from any presence.
Disregarded like discarded waste.
I wonder if these barriers are meant for people to be kept out or kept in.
Shielded and protected from the emptiness that awaits them.
Or left untended to soak in the loneliness.
I wonder how it is possible to feel so small in a place so vast.
The silence is deafening.
Everything is so still.
This place is barren and absent.
I wish I was on the other side.
But these walls divide.
-Jessica Bizzoco
