Voices in my head, shadows surround me
I think, I feel, but I know not if only in a dream
I breathe – possibly that’s real
I speak – but I know not who can hear
The undertones in my voice, what I really mean
I stare out at a horizon, unblinking
Melancholia sets in, but not a tear runs down my face
Could it be that the unfeeling has finally caught on?
Are the doors shutting me in or shutting me out?
Are there even doors to begin with?