there is a knock
on the door
it jolts me
out
of another
restless
dream
"mm?"
i croak
there is a
click
and a
churn
and the door
opens
there is
a lady
in a
white dress
a nurse
am i sick?
i don't think so
"Mira?"
i nod
but don't
say anything
"someone wants to talk to you. could you follow me please?"
her voice
is very
soft
i feel like a
rabid
dog
and that
she is
scared
of me
i shoot her a
glare
just because
i can
and she jumps
slightly
then i
stand up
and she quickly
rushes
out of the
room
i follow
her
slowly
the hall is filled
with rooms
all with metal
gray
doors
the hallways
are curvy
and confusing
and then we
stop
she smiles falsely
"just go in"
she nearly
whispers
there's voices in my head
each one
saying
something else
don't!
open it!
are you scared!?
what a baby!
they'll ruin you!
they think
you're
INSANE
i stop
the knob is freezing
in my hand
and i suddenly
don't want to
go in
insane
i am
Not
insane
but a few
other voices
tell me i should
go in
so i do
YOU ARE READING
Psychotic
Poetrygray is a mess a mixture of everything good that turned into something absolutely horrible and that's what she called me she called me gray
