The rain and the sun.
Plastic avians on the terrace fence.
Smokeless chimneys.
Unseen waste gas excess.
A window.
Slept on couch.
The room is not your home.
Furry teeth pets.
Neck chain neckless metal heavy.
Shoulderblades goosebump freezing.
Stolen warmth spreading.
Your day, my day, every day.
Two dimentional dome.
Flesh, fleshless, bare.
A falling insect in flight.
Empty inside.
Eyes not seeing.
Ears not hearing.
Swimming words on paper puple blue.
This is not fantasy.
Unreal not-reality sharp.
Green-grey numbers changing.
White box cardboard perfume container.
Stillness.
It was not always so.
Now I cannot change it.
You are not the master of my mind.