I can’t tell it apart no more;
There I was in the onset of a new day,
Cramped in the almost corner of the room space,
Inadequate traces of sleep chase me,
Her voice quake in my head, trying to degrade me.
Sadly each minute in this square, –
Every thought becomes more clear,
While I lay amongst entities that have experienced me,
varied frequencies but they know my entity.
Complicated meanings parsed into simple scenes;
Few inches below the ceiling’s feet,
Parched On the wall, –
they lay and tell their stories clean,
Each squares hold powerful details of worldly gifts.
Memories that’d last a decade,
If we lived that long as beings still.
I’m rapped in a beige cage with taints and shades of several things,
All above eye level, –
I’m brought back down by the sensation on the ground
But I couldn’t tell if the rug was maroon or red still.