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I go outside.

Out of this prison my home has become

or that I've made out of it.

I can't tell the difference.

It feels wrong to be outside

just as wrong as it feels to be inside.

Where do I go?

I find a quiet place,

which wasn't easy.

Even though we're all ordered to stay

in our little prisons,

it's pretty busy in the courtyard.

I get on my knees

and touch the earth

something I've never done before.

I didn't have the time

but now I do.

All the time in the world.

Does the earth feel different?

I wouldn't know.

I clutch my fingers

and tear out a root.

And suddenly I get sad.

I didn't mean to do that.

It's exactly how I feel -


I put it back

hoping that will fix it

make it like it was before.

But that's not how it works, is it?

Once uprooted

you can't go back to how it was before.

By Mariam


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