Madness

It is five strikes past three

I am not sure if I am talking to someone

Or if I am talking to the wall

But they are getting closer,

And closer,

And closer,

Perhaps they are providing a way out,

A way out of the crummy room

With only a blinking light

That flickers only on the beat

Of my rapid,

Misspaced heart.

Perhaps it wants to give me something!

It gets closer,

And closer,

And closer--

I open my eyes.

I look around the room.

It is only me again.

Just me.

Alone.