The outline of grey newspaper snowflakes greet me as I wake from a deep sleep, 5:00 am, quiet darkness has encased my tiny room.

I shoot upright, my peripheral vision searching for some trace of brightness.

The glow of blurry bulbs illuminate my room from the scarlet brick path outside, drawing in moths, and mosquitos, feeding them harsh florescent rays.

Seduced to the light, I stumble to the window, consuming it.

Resting my tired palms on the window sill,

and I lean forward until my forehead meets a cool force field, separating my exhausted body from the pulsing swarms below.

I am starving, trapped behind a shiny plate, in a musky room.

Oily remnants are left where my forehead rested

My eyes dart, analyze, envy the dazzling gleam below.

Insects greedy for the glimmer, and I am ravenous for it.

It beckons me, whispers in my hollow head, brushes my cheeks with greasy streaks.

I clench my fists, tight, white skin remains where blood would have flowed.

Hair on the back of my knees prickles, and a lump in my throat rises into my dry mouth.

Desperate to be on the other side of this glassy, dark prison.

Printed comics, fragmented words grab my bloodshot eyes, as I rip the flimsy flakes from the window.

Abstract, geometric, curly q’s blur my vision.

Shards of glass sprinkle the rough carpet, stabbing my bare, calloused feet.

My fists hit the open air and suddenly they are inside.

First the light hits me in euphoria, then the tickle and buzzing of vexed insects.

The gleaming begins to burn my eyes, quickly closing them, in need of a fix.

They crawl over my skin, eating my pores, feasting on the light that I have stolen,

Allowing the disease inside me to fully dominate.

Lights flicker below, slowly dying,

Finally crawling off me, scurrying into the crevices of my tiny room.

Looking for a way out.

Sun moves over the blank horizon, flooding my murky room with warmth.

But the darkness is still there, in the corners, in the shadows.

Waiting for me to feed it, lurking into my shell.