The harshness outside

makes it hard to see inside

~

in my shadow

I can just see a switch

but I am not sure

what it will

change

The windows I see through

are not cleaned

for many years

the world seems this way

to be really

shitty

~

when I finally go outside

and look back

I see this way

that inside it also

seems to be

really

When abandoned

we make stories

of the objects

we see

~

in their eternal silence

they make room

for us

When I was young

and old

I looked at the same

time

I had

and still left

This white

like metal fog

I see

staring into

me

~

the empty prison

with walls from the blood

spilled by my insights

Elaborate decorations

are holding

my entrance

up

~

but a slight

push

might

persuade me