My five button suit
only makes its way out
My tattered sleeves
covered in dirt and Lilly dust
tremble in the cold, sterile room.
I back into a corner.
The thick air holds me to the floor,
putting me in a coffin.
I see the line forming towards the casket.
I blink and lose sight, breathing is shortened.
My suit drops a button that takes
years to touch the floor, yet
every moment remains silent.
I am zombified, falling apart.
This place births decay.
I feel ostracized by the fog.
I feel death creating my separation,
a direct path to the bed in the room’s
I feel the false pockets of my jacket.
They are filled with holes that lead nowhere.
I blink hard and the room empties.
The fog clears and the door opens.
I step outside and lose the coat.