The Room

Long corridor

Shadow and light

Backrooms of my mind

If I close my eyes it exists again

the room

It's always there

It smells like sweat and shame

So much of it - the room

I left it a long time ago

Even laughed like

It didn't matter

It didn't matter

When I close my eyes it comes alive

Monster-

Did I make him ?

Monster-

Is there a place where

It never happened?

And if so,

What horrors await

In this hall of mirrors?

Shame and

shame;

I thought I wanted to be loved

I just want to be forgiven

Everyone does.

I play a song in the terrace

and pretend

That entropy has occurred

That i could merge with the sky

Any moment

Swirling of bile

waiting to be absolved

All

the

time

What's an apology?

An imitation of drills down the skull

Green liquid guilt

Smells like

the room again

I wonder if I can leave

Hall of mirrors,

Take me.

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- samjam (7 Oct 2026, 7:40 pm) Is the past a real thing? What makes something real? Is imagination real, in the sense that- it does exist? Whatever, Also, I know entropy is probably not used properly here. I really don't understand what it actually scientifically means. But I meant it as absolute breakdown of everything as we know it. I'm a commerce student please don't expect scientific precision from me. Thanks and toodles,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,.