Just WhiteBy: Rayne Beaux by RayneBeaux-Model, literature
Literature
Just WhiteBy: Rayne Beaux
Just White
By: Rayne Beaux
I am trapped in a white room.
The walls are white
the floors are white.
Any door or window is too white to discern.
The room is a perfect cube.
Each wall is perfectly symmetrical
perfectly identical
and perfectly unidentifiable.
I am locked in an empty, white box
void of objects, color, and any earthly sensation.
I am alone.
I search the room frantically
nothing.
no ridge
no hole
no crack.
The white box is too perfect and I feel unreal.
I am alone...in a room of nothing.
absolutely nothing.
Every thought
every idea and
every feeling that
I'd once experienced outside the box dissipates
and fades into neutral.
White
RainBy: Rayne BeauxDon't by RayneBeaux-Model, literature
Literature
RainBy: Rayne BeauxDon't
Rain
By: Rayne Beaux
Don't want to talk about it.
Let me stare out the window.
I'm counting the raindrops
and giving them names.
Don't want to think about it.
Maybe I'll watch the TV
backwards
The show reflecting in the glass
The rain is catching up
The characters look scared
for they will soon drown
in the little raindrops that gather
And they will scream
trapped in the window's pane
that's filling with rain.
AddictBy: Rayne BeauxMorn by RayneBeaux-Model, literature
Literature
AddictBy: Rayne BeauxMorn
Addict
By: Rayne Beaux
Morning light does pleasure them
when everything is still.
They come before magnetic lines
urging to touch tomorrow
to taste sweet sunshine
to inhale the cosmos
always taking in too much
When they start to feel the pattern
the repetition is intoxicating
The raw impression will model pain
when the subject is to suffer
The electricity in veins
all comes rolling down
And the air is heavy.