I sit alone in room 207
Solitude yields to the white coat, red lipstick: A clown
Who grabs me and smirks raising the needle
Driving it into my arm, leaving me swimming through space
In an empty room. No color, No nothing
It starts to happen again

A spinning teacup going around and around and around till I am nauseous
Pleading for it to stop. I try to get off, but the door is locked
No one understands, how could they? I am on the ride all-alone
And the calliope music is crushing me

Reeling dizzy down the empty strip
I stumble into the house of glass, my image changing with every step
A kaleidoscope of faces presses in,
Elephants ivory tusks hover above, startled by the lions echoing roar,
I fall back on to the screeching monkeys cage.
A rich scent of funnel cakes press onto me
My tongue pink, blue and gritty from the cotton candy

The calliope music grinds, off key

I am the popcorn kettle, the kernels, popping, popping, popping,
I can’t take it; it is getting hot, its burning, the smoke fills the airs

It fills my nose, and the smells are gone
Everything is white. Not cloud white, hospital white
The Caliope draws its final breath,
I sit alone in room 207