Wake up, same walls, same sky,
same road where the cars roll by.
Same faces, same halls, same air—
like I’m breathing the weight of nowhere.
I trace the cracks in the pavement lines,
counting the days that don’t feel like mine.
Round and round, the cycle spins,
where does it stop? Where does it begin?
The world feels bigger in my head,
but here, it shrinks and turns cold instead.
Like I’m trapped on a rock in the middle of space,
watching time drip, stuck in place.
I swear there’s more—I need to go,
but the doors stay locked, the clock ticks slow.
And all I can do is sit and wait,
dream of roads that lead to escape.
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