This room is made of lights
That assault the eyes
That swirl into the center
In which they finally die
This room is made of sounds
That drip out of sync
That are muffled and dank
And too thick to drink
This room is made of cards
That line my four walls
That expand with a breath
But on exhale they fall
This room is made of nothing
This room is my head
This room is too tired
And going to bed.
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