in a room he hides

 a bed of dreams

where tomorrows never come

and yesterdays never happened. 

a tunnel of time that never ticks,

where the wax drips off the candles slower than usual

and the smiles on everyone are a little bit too forced. 

where everything goes quiet in a way that is deafening 

everything that goes backwards and never forwards

and the sun unspirals itself and goes cold.

-c.s-m