i look around the colourless room and try to see anything i can. i attempt to trace the outline of what can only be the door, yet all i can make out is walls.
miles and miles of walls stretch against blank canvases as i search ever square inch, wallpapering the walls with my eyes and i can't see anything.
ive lost the ability to hear, ive lost the ability to see. ive lost all hope that i will win this fight. ive considered myself to not be a quitter but here i am in this dark room admitting to myself that this cannot go on.
i close and open my eyes but nothing seems to work because now ive lost the ability to feel anything, its all just black with vague swirling colours that i cant make out, and the patterns are invisible yet i can somehow see them.
i dont know how to explain a dark room to someone, because i dont even know how to open my eyes anymore.
YOU ARE READING
this little fight
Poetryi paint my eyes with words and my mind with thoughts. a collection of slam poems.
