Isolation

Walled in with my own sorrow,
I look through a pinhole
Which provides me a wide vista
Of all that exists outside this room.
Even as someone moves very close,
I watch as if from a distance;
And I am unseen,
Unheard.
I pound on the wall until my fists bleed,
And I suffer the sounds of my own screams,
Hoping it will shatter under my blows,
Or from the shrill vibrations
Of my primal cries.