a man lies in his bed in a room with no door

he waits hoping for a presence, something, anything, to enter

after spending half his life searching, he still felt as blank as the ceiling at which he stared

he is alive, but feels absolutely nothing

so is he?

when he was six he believed that the moon over head followed him

by nine he had deciphered the allusion, trading magic for fact

no trade backs

so this is what it's like to be an adult

if he only knew now what he knew then

I'm open (2x)

come on in (4x)

I'm open (2x)

come on in (4x)

lying sideways atop crumpled sheets with no covers

he decides to dream

dream up a new self

for himself