All the days are the same. The room is cold when I wake I rise to foreign windows that remain So different from my own; day breaks. Day one ... two ... three ... The room is cold when I wake; It is not my own room, but a lie So different from my own ... day breaks But outside the window is the same blue sky. Day four ... five ... six ... It is not my own room, but a lie It’s a place I’m trapped until I’m well Outside the window is the same blue sky But inside it’s solitary, a personal hell Seven ... eight ... nine ... It’s a place I’m trapped until I’m well I miss the crisp fresh air; Inside it’s solitary, a personal hell A girl and a room, a quarantine affair Ten ... eleven ... twelve ... thirteen ... I miss the crisp fresh air; I rise to foreign windows that remain A reminder of a quarantine affair. All the days are the same. Then … Fourteen.
Sarah Tews is a SNC junior majoring in English with creative writing and history. When she’s not attempting to write fantastical retellings of fairy tales, she manages the campus theater and lives with her best friend, which makes her beautifully unproductive. When she graduates, she hopes to sell her books to a major publishing house and become a full-time author.
