The winter snow drizzles down from the evening sky it seems as if frost is the envy of rain. My thoughts ponder as I look outside wondering if there is more to life then waking up to the same window. The rime ice collects itself on the tree branches as they sway with the stormy wind. I stay inside wrapped up with my mounds of blankets to shield myself from the cold. The room is claustrophobic, its walls are a rotten color green and it’s carpeted floor the color of blood. It was eerie but it had a welcoming fireplace. I was not allowed to exit the room. If I did I might not survive. I need to make sure the window never moves its place- that is my only grasp of reality.
I have been locked away for about a week and my only source of food is delivered through the window at midnight. I do not recollect who I am or why I am here. When I had awakened the first day I had a note with only “REVIVER” written on it. As the days followed suit I began to find more clues inside the basket where my meals were delivered. All words had no connection to each other except for the fact that they were palindromes.
Outside my window
nature takes a hold
A grasp of reality
I am letting go.
Clarity has never been so foggy
Outside my window
I witness the day go by
As my palindrome routine
haunts me.
I am no longer here.
