He lives to dream

He lives to dream
Waits for the silent demon
Who awakens when he is asleep
In our outside corridor.
He hugs our doormat
The replacement for a pillow
And that what was on it once.
The smell of alcohol exhaust
Fills the dark staircase
I hear your steps when the door hasn't been locked.
Like an animal you are now wild
You have no visible culture
You have no more real wishes and visions
How does your stomach get filled?
You are not one of them... you are nobody.
A bacteria in the universe of skyscrapers
In which even the whales get crushed.