There Is Only One Chair In This Room

A bunch of thoughts quietly laying on the silence, and a

ton of reasons to not open the doors. I’ve been looking

for space and time in the moments I shared, but time

fades away and my space is a whore raped by thousands of

strangers, and begging for rest. Call me disaster or

social retard but I only feel safe between my two pairs

of walls. Don’t let me out the world outside is a damn

f**king nightmare. And the people a joke that should have

stayed stuck on the teeth of its goddamn son of a bitch

owner. When nothing seems clear through the cleanest

window, the obvious would say the problems not in and the

doors will stay closed for all strangers. May my building

burn and I will surely burn into it. There is only one

chair in this room and it does not wear my name.