Don’t Leave the Room
Don’t leave the room—don’t blunder. Why need the Sun if you smoke Shipka thunder? Beyond the door, all’s nonsense, especially joy’s cry. Only to the bathroom—then crawl back inside. Don’t leave. Don’t betray the creed. Outside this room—just hollow speed. Behind that door lies all you’ll miss. What’s left? A sky of abyss. Oh, don’t leave. Don’t start the motor. Space is just a corridor that ends with a meter. And if some live milka stumbles in—throw her out. Unlive. Remember: here, in walls, you’re whole. The outer world? A blind man’s stroll. All you’ve lost, all that slipped— each step steals what you didn’t grip. Don’t leave. Say drafts betrayed you. What’s brighter than walls and chairs made for two? Why exit where you’ll return by night, the same wreck, just more contrite? Don’t leave! Here, you’re real. Your shadow, the dark—that’s the deal. Outside: dust. Here: a thread of breath. Step out—you’ll meet your death. Oh, don’t leave. Dance, catch the pause, coat on bare skin, shoes without gauze. The hall reeks of cabbage and ski wax. You’ve penned too many letters. One more’s collapse. Don’t leave. Watch. Be numb. You’re here. The world’s a deaf hum. What’s past the door? All you’ll discard. You’ll stay—a void, a shard. Don’t be a fool. Be what none are. Don’t leave! Let furniture parse your will. Merge with wallpaper glue. Barricade with wardrobes—time, space, sex, race, flu. Don’t leave. Here’s your sphere. No pain reflects here, no fear. Beyond? A stranger’s script. Risk it—you’ll be… unscripted.
Don’t leave the room—don’t blunder. Why need the Sun if you smoke Shipka thunder? Beyond the door, all’s nonsense, especially joy’s cry. Only to the bathroom—then crawl back inside. Don’t leave. Don’t betray the creed. Outside this room—just hollow speed. Behind that door lies all you’ll miss. What’s left? A sky of abyss. Oh, don’t leave. Don’t start the motor. Space is just a corridor that ends with a meter. And if some live milka stumbles in—throw her out. Unlive. Remember: here, in walls, you’re whole. The outer world? A blind man’s stroll. All you’ve lost, all that slipped— each step steals what you didn’t grip. Don’t leave. Say drafts betrayed you. What’s brighter than walls and chairs made for two? Why exit where you’ll return by night, the same wreck, just more contrite? Don’t leave! Here, you’re real. Your shadow, the dark—that’s the deal. Outside: dust. Here: a thread of breath. Step out—you’ll meet your death. Oh, don’t leave. Dance, catch the pause, coat on bare skin, shoes without gauze. The hall reeks of cabbage and ski wax. You’ve penned too many letters. One more’s collapse. Don’t leave. Watch. Be numb. You’re here. The world’s a deaf hum. What’s past the door? All you’ll discard. You’ll stay—a void, a shard. Don’t be a fool. Be what none are. Don’t leave! Let furniture parse your will. Merge with wallpaper glue. Barricade with wardrobes—time, space, sex, race, flu. Don’t leave. Here’s your sphere. No pain reflects here, no fear. Beyond? A stranger’s script. Risk it—you’ll be… unscripted.