Entering into my cold, dark room,
I pulled the curtains,
Preventing any human vision to catch sight.
Placing myself on the chilly yet comfortable linen,
I rub my feet together, trying to get warm.
Pulling out a notepad and a pen,
From the table beside my bed,
I quickly realize how weird it is that not only my heart,
But my mind is as empty and quiet as the walls I am surrounded by.
There is no sign of any humanly touch.
There is just this paralysis I am going through.
My eyes water up as no memory fills my mind.
It is as blank as the paper I am holding.
I wake up in the middle of the night,
With the same feeling still persisting,
And the piece of paper still laying beside me,
Which I crush up and throw across the room,
Accepting this is who I am gonna be,
For the rest of my life.

.    .    .