The dim presence in the back of the room will take a liking to the shadows on the wall
Faint noises are made from the strainious efforts of the fallen lights
The sounds erupt, presenting themselves as eerie screams
but with a sense of focus they're nothing more then struggling breaths

All will be found, though to be found implies that at one point we were lost
And to be lost means that we have had a place, and have strayed from it

The voices echoing meanings beyond myself
Screeching that it's only natural to diversify my future
But yet I look at the horizon at a vertical angle, the invisible mouths of my tormentors/my friends/ agape--
Stunned I'd let my mind ponder such insolence

The sky was always meant to be an outlet, yet to me it's just another ceiling
Leaving my room brings me to the other interiors of my house, which in turn, is just a bigger room with borders
Leaving my house brings me to the outside, an even bigger room
It may feel open, but we all understand it's closed

The only way a singular person could breathe in without the worry of another's...