Waiting for the guillotine

What if I never come out of this room again?

Carpet pattern



Across the pond

They call it laser focus

Truth is

I can’t take my eyes away


Behind the door to my right

Lies the future

Unavoidable, unrelenting



There is no one else

Suspend Donne’s island thoughts

While shuffling shapes clip sense peripherals

No one else really exists


Biological and natural worlds have ceased

It’s just me

Burning a hole in the beige in front of me

Fight or flight


Every iota of my life exists now

In the gaze across the carpet ocean

Waiting for the doom-laden click


Of the door handle of death

Or exam

Potato potato



Sloth out


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