Straight Jacket Love.

Eerily twisted and semi-tired.
Wearily spun round' over what transpired.

Who knew they could conspire to be;
On top of their own world.
A nightmare to see.

To me?

I spied Paris...

Through an hour glass window;
peephole open wide.

Felt the inner workings.
Smelt the misty stale air.
Heard the maddening sadness creep ever so slowly up my spine,
past the blackness, and
into the realm of pain.

Breathed from the inside,
while coursing through blue veins.

The deafening silence.

Pure driven.

Insane.

Let go.

Left me.

Tangled in this silk woven cocoon

Trapped on the inside.

Thoroughly content in my own Asylum.

Knowing this prison will close at noon.