This is a passage from my book called "The Rough Journey of Survival":
As I sit in my cell, I feel trapped in my own isolation.
When I become depressed, my mind loses control as I lie on my bed.
As I imagine what life is like outside the gates of hell,
I feel like time is ticking by slower and slower.
No matter how much I sleep,
the clock still moves at a slow pace during my unconsciousness.
As I try to calm myself,
all I can think about is dying by a blade from someone else’s hand or my own.
I continue to survive because survival is my only option in order to see the sight of the free