someday i don’t exist beyond these walls.

everything in the house becomes still my mind, my will, my drive the only thing that’s moves is dust; dust will always fall.

there’s shadows on the cave wall outside the window blinds might as well be up all day, what difference does it make, it’s all not real to me.

i should leave, its good for me! but i say no, let’s stay inside today, and remain still we’ve had enough lately.

but there’s work to be done, there is always work, dust will always fall, i remain still, and still, and still

there’s no difference between me and the cave walls shadow, light, stone, woman; we are all one in the land of the dead, the land of dreams.

You suffocate me. Pulling the eyes from my head and embedding them in your palms.

Vines snake up and throughout my body. Their tongues have your fingerprints.

Tilted head, burning throat, something obstructing; please provide a tracheotomy.

Clammy body, trembling hands, something intruding; I’ll never go outside again.

The only warmth are my hands I wrap myself in. Nothing else provides solace—my own is dubious.