My Prisoner

I have a courtroom inside my head.
Arguments go on for hours.
I never plead innocent, I just stare around- burning in the fire of my own regrets.
Seriously, no-one saves me.
I announce my sentence as I burn.
Guilty verdict, every time.

With dead eyes and empty brain, I crawl in the bleak prison cell
chained in my own sins
fists of shame stuffed in my mouth
Seriously, no-one saves me.
I laugh at myself in the sense of righteousness.
Justice served, every time.

Some sunny days, (it feels like sunny days, I don't know- my cell has no window), I come as a visitor.
My palms smell of rust of iron and eyes feel myself behind the bars.
'Why did you have to do that? You were good.'
'It just happened. I am sorry.'
I mutter through bloody lip and bruised forehead.

No bail, no parole.
Such is this courtroom inside my head.
Seriously, no-one saves me.
Because I don't even want to be saved.