Can you see the stars? The air is made up of cracked glass and the room is filled with the sound of broken hallelujahs. There’s an alley down to memory lane you’d rather not travel. The smell of stale promises lingers in every breath taken in this ancient place. Light from the moon flies in so accusingly through shattered thoughts, why are you back here? This room is for mourning, this empty sad room. It’s the place that is really just an idea in the back of your mind. The place that whispers death, guilt, lost loves, withered dreams, covered in dust, taking up space in this pit of your mind. There are no stars here, just deep, harsh light through faded stained glass, you can believe it, but you pretend you can’t so you don’t have to….
What is this place? A palace of indecision, a universe of the non- forgiving. Who lets the stained glass get dirty? Who doesn’t sweep the floors, rid them of stupid thoughts and mindless babble. Blame here takes no form. If you dare enter then you know it’s your own fault. Ignore the music; ignore your own heartbeat. You are here to rot in silence, no mercy for the wicked. Believe only in the truth of your own stupidity. Nothing exists save the eternal clock in your mind, counting not the moments but the lies. You are not alive. You are stuck in a recurring fever dream, hot, sweaty, and painful. You can’t ever wake up and you can’t ever sleep. There is no way to escape these broken hallelujahs