Maybe I'm Not
Maybe you aren't supposed to leave after all. How would you be, if all you can see are four stone walls. Of course, you take your turn scratching at the wall a little, but that's a futile effort. Even if your nails grew back fast enough for it to stop hurting, who knows how thick they were. Who knows if there's anything behind them at all.
You spend the first few years (or was it decades?) making up new songs. The acoustics in this place are shockingly good, even if not much else is. Not much else is- period. There's only you, and you're beginning to doubt if you even are.
You had expected to starve, or die of thirst, or eventually see yourself age but nothing really happens. You're not sure if you're stuck and you can't age, or if there never was such a thing to begin with. Maybe there never was any light and the things you thought you saw were only your imagination. Ooh you should make up another country song. It's been a while since you've sung one of those.
It's easy to lose count of time when it doesn't exist, but it's also easy to lose count of yourself. You went through a lot of emotions, though it was hard to tell if it's because you really felt them, or because you just wanted to keep feeling. Anger, sadness, despair, existentialism, you name it you felt it. There were some happy times, some confusing times, but eventually times started to drag on.
You're starting to think there weren't any walls in the first place. And that's how you sat. For years and lifetimes and eons and until the heat death of the universe had happened a thousand times over. Until one day, there was a sound. A thing.
Something that shattered its way through the thick nothing and finally reached you. You smiled when you heard it, remembering that you had a mouth to smile with and ears to hear it with.
The beautiful sound, the one that you would remember forever as the only thing to exist throughout all of eternity and more was..