I find myself locked inside
A room the size and shape of a human being
With windows that can never be opened
And a door that can only be exited once.
Inside this graveyard of thoughts and ideas
And dreams – things I may once have seen
The ceiling and floorboards crumble, and slowly
The walls draw in.
The foundations shudder with passing days
Timber turns to rot
Circuits that used to work, to turn on lights or
Keep the building heated – start to stop
The room seems to shrink and shrivel,
And I, trapped in a snowglobe-prison
White flakes of age and illness clouding my eyes
Find my hand resting on the door handle.