The white room

Pallid tiles

Peeling flesh tearing away from the walls

like scattering eels writhing and unfurling

Mirror looks to me with insane eyes

Porcelain laid to waste

Something about drips of water

taking their final plunge

Clock hand dragging like the movement 

in the water, stabilizing

Succumbing to the still 

Here it is that I feel so vacant 

Shivering, transparent like the white of the walls

Dark tangles of hair heaving below

Structure of the room 

Evenings heavy brow 

gives a distant, waning sunless light

Your skin prickles at the slightest sliver of icy air 

To feel truly alone 

in the white room