Cold and shivering with blue
inside locked up existence
lies my panic room.
Its loud constant and dry pulse
maddening the senses.
With too loud a fear inside its silence
and too quiet a courage outside
its noise.
Not knowing where to find
the keyhole. When to turn the key.
Nobody knows the prisoner within
having mistaken a jail
with open fields.
Still, air-tight, falling asleep
and wanting the darkness and my panic room
to be free.
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