Pain is just a matter of
Sensation
That's why I avoid it
It became a mania.
Mania made of red, restless
Compulsions.

Never sitting quietly.
Not being quiet.
Doing things incessantly,
Encased by the veil of the
Alley.

In the fellowship of the words.
Room of the black safe.

Strange.
This moment is a mutation of
Character — what's gonna happen?

The blinds remain closed to prevent
Straying lights to bother the room.
Besides, the sirens are screaming
On the street; silence has bled out.

It's good as it is.
Not wanting to be someone else
In the fellowship of the words;
Protected in a warm cave.