insomnia

11 pm
starring at those fucking empty white walls.
white and mockingly.
they're should be demolished.
like the building on the other side of the street.
the other side of the street.
nothing beside this lonely mountain of stones and dirt.
they shouldn't had demolished this fucking building.
now i just have those fucking walls i can stare on.
00 am
open window.
the dry air fills the room.
the room with the bed and this fucking desk.
white desk out of wood.
it has cracks and some lost words in it.
some of them could be mine.
looking out the open window.
no one's out there. sadly.
just this fucking mountain in my vision field.
1 am
sitting on the desk.
the air is dry and i drink something out of this fucking yellow bootle.
the water is not cold but not warm either.
thank god.
starring on the fucking wall over the bed.
my silhouette draws a shadow on it.
2 am
laying in bed starring at the fucking ceiling.
it's white of course.
everything in this fucking room is white.
even the door handle from the fucking white door.
the empty perfect door.
the door is new. i can see that.
or it's just new colored.
i literally don't care.
it's just a fucking white door in a fucking white room.