The Blue Room
Blue walls.
Blue ceiling.
Blue floor.
No door.
No windows.
No light.
Only darkness.
Nothing to drink but the tear drops.
Nothing to eat but my own flesh.
A solitary clock on the wall.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
Timing me.
Waiting for me to leave the room.
The blue room.
The blue room with no exit.
The blue room with an entrance, but no exit.
The blue room I hate.
The blue room I need.
The blue room I can't live without.
The blue room that is driving me to madness.
The blue room I am terrified I will die in.
The blue room.
The blue room.
Is the blue room blue?
It's too dark to tell.
Maybe the blue room is red.
Maybe the blue room is green.
Maybe the blue room is purple.
Maybe the blue room is yellow.
Maybe the blue room is black.
I'm not sure anymore.
What if the blue room isn't a room at all?
What if the blue room is a city?
What if the blue room is a person?
What if the blue room is a decade?
What if the blue room is me?
What if the blue room is a blue room?
Man, wouldn't that be something?
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/v1lrlj/the_nightmare_lives_to_burn/ian5vea/?context=3
Posted May 31, 2022, 9:15 AM UTC