Wake up
There are no birds to be heard
There’s a stillness held captive, lining all four walls
Eyes open, but are still glazed over
Uncertainty settles in
Arms wrapped tightly around a shaking core
Mind spinning
The bitter taste of distrust creeping to the back of an empty throat
There is no common ground
A battle field of paranoia and nervousness
Tugging and unraveling the tightly sewn threads of a composed demeanor