the fluorescent light buzzes overhead, like some sort of bright swollen bee not sure if he is the type concerned with honey making or human stinging
i walk over to the cold floored ***** mirrored always somehow slightly damp bathroom and when i wash the painter's pallet of makeup off of my face what am i left with? a blank face, dull eyes staring into a blank face with dull eyes we are told that those colorful smudges on our face somehow make us more beautiful but in the eyes of. . . ?
the carpet, though clean is always somehow ***** how many people have lived in this room before me again? 100? 1000? each of them as much in this room as i am they surely must have noticed what i have the ceiling tile near the door that has nearly fallen out that one yellow tile in the bathroom that should be blue the way the window will only lock if you have the strength and patience of at least three people
if walls could talk or anything in this room for that matter i'm not sure i would want to hear what they had to say