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when did i come in here?
the ceiling's on the floor--
not sure--which way is up?
i haven't found the door.

silence bangs across the stairs--
stairs that lead to nowhere.
been looking around for something,
but i guess there's nothing there.

running into and through walls
(there really should be caution tape
around a place like this). you know,
i don't think i will or can escape.

thoughts fall out the open window.
lights are on, but it's bright black.
hallways lead nowhere, but circle
in a line forward to back.

the tile on the floor is moving--
first a pattern, then a maze.
how do i get out of here?
weeks i spend inside these days.

if i go around the corner
(the corners, see, indeed are round),
non-exsistence exsists everywhere,
like the chasm in this ground.

time is present, never moving--
stuck inside a brooding past.
trapped between t hese walls and losing
my mind--how long will this last?

waves of nothing crash around me
forming a kind of lost abyss
in this room where i am drowning
in pain that outside would be bliss.

this will drive me crazy soon.
trapped alone in here, you see,
the only way out is locked
and you're the one who has the key.