Picture It

 Close your eyes please. Please. close them, and imagine a room you can't leave. Maybe it's a fine room. It's not too hot, not too cold. Maybe there are some people who make you chuckle. But you can't leave. Well, you could. The doors aren't locked, but if you leave that's it. Once you leave the people in your life won't know what do do with you because you won't be doing anything. Because you chose to leave over staying. Once you leave, you won't have anything. Sure you'll have you head, your heart, your stomach and your bones and the things they give you. Humor, and taste and inspiration, but by way of connecting with anyone you won't have anything. You're life with be illegible, even if everyone you know hates returning to the room everyday after they are told they may leave for the night- or the day- people won't know what to do with you, wandering the wilderness. Locked out, rather than in, to paraphrase Virginia Wolf. Not to mention the starvation. You'll dwindle. You won't have any cash because they give you cash for standing in the room. You might be able to scrape some up but there's no cash really outside of the room. Certainly not if you were born into the room. It's starvation on all fronts. Starvation of the gut and the spirit. I certainly wouldn't call this just.