Vibrational  hues eclipse
         my exterior ,
reverberating upon
                           my senses.

Parallel bars synchronize
around me, am I  a prisoner
as the resonation keeps
            me within this spot.

I can feel within a perfect
           storm of repetition.
Like chambers bouncing off
each other, trying to find a
                             synchronization.

I look at myself,
                      breaches spring forth,
this shell is to weak to keep me in.
        Shattering forth, I'm pure volume.

The bars start to spike, As I break free.
         We become harmonized,
what tried to bind is now part of my reality.

Eyes there a inconvenience in the shadows
of perpetual darkness,  like ailments of light
they shift around my desolate room.
I hear things, things that I should be able to
visualize with nothing within the perceptive
gazes of my sight.

I once had a life, I wouldn't call this life but
a destitute lingering of shimmering reflections
that resonate back to this place. filaments of
noise lacerate on my senses. Then I hear the
echo of past pains, my ears are vacant this
melody that I hear within my cerebral contusions.

Whispers slither within my memories, violating
valuable instances, the hairs on my arms procure
a stance of pins magnetized on vibrations.
Shading accumulates within the room and a voice
plays on the shadow of my flesh and I hear:

"Where
            is
                DADDY,

"Where

                   is

       DADDY,


I shudder as I see nothing before me, but
shading that illuminates the surroundings
in visceral empathy, that I  cant rightly conceive.
I encompass my reaction too slowly as thoughts
willingly motion my palms forward to oblivion.
Regressing on the onward offerings, I step back.

Have I been thinking to much, am I seeing things
that are an apparition of my desolation within
the world of my singular selves. I stumble away
from the solitude lingering in the blank reflections.
Instead I look in the mirror and see myself speaking

"Where
            is
                DADDY,

"Where

                   is

       DADDY,

My younger self hammers on the echo's
of a past, unwritten words collect on my
reflection. I could stop this, if I just listened
to tearful repetitions, but I just walk into a silent
nullity of air. A reproduction of fading moments
tries in vain to stop this continuation of ourselves.

Awoken on a ***** mattress in a room, I remember
this place, but it seems desolate like the feelings
were drained from its existence.. I'm only a child,
why am I here? I cry out "Where is daddy,
Tearful in this moment, till I see a rope hanging loosely
from the ceiling, I swing back and forth, its cold on my fingers.