I could hear myself

Pitter patter around

Silences deafen me

All senses overwhelmed

In this windowless white room

All boredoms become terrors

In this windowless white room

The future is too bright to see at all

I sit, I stand up, I sit down

I sit, I stand up, I sit down

Featureless landscape—iridescent holy nothing

Personless outline—free play of the broken mind

Forever moving towards sleep

Passionflower tongue

Measured in weeks, not hours

Every three bеcomes one

In this windowless whitе room

All borders creep up to your eyes

In this windowless white room

The future is too bright to see at all

I stand up, I sit down

I sit, I stand up, I sit down

Featureless landscape—iridescent holy nothing

Prisonless outline—free play of the broken mind