I woke up today

and it is quiet.

The constant jangle of the prison

is still.

The echo steel and loud concrete

are silent.

The peace vibrates in me

as a warm embrace.

I dress and wait

in tranquil envelopment.

The door is open,

I don’t wait to leave,

My feet do not touch the floor.

I step through.

I drift in clouded solitude

barely moving at all.

There is no coldness

nor prick of conscience.

I woke up this morning

because I am dead.