I stare at my ceiling,
Blank, white, boring.
The rain is pouring,
Loud, hard, sad.
The paint is peeling,
Cracks upon cracks,
The rain is still pouring,
Louder, harder, sadder.
I look up at the sky,
but all I see is white.
Blank, boring, sad,
I'm not doing okay.
I'm surrounded by walls,
White, restricting, converging.
They're closing in,
and I'm too lost to leave.
I'm lost in a sea of white,
I can't see, I can't breathe.
Every moment is blank, boring, sad,
painted with the life I never had.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Writing Contest.
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