No room is truly black

No room is truly black,

colours appear even at events of closed eyes.

No place is fully quiet,

my pulse my breath, my uneven compromised breath.

yet something else is leading to death.

and no state of feeling absolutely nothing will ever hit, will it?

agree and

agree and 

agree,

agreeing my way down mary-anne street where the corners are sharp and noises are loud.

compromising my life through boulevard344 just for you to be sure.

to be certain.

that im worth it. 

yet under a curtain.

you find me and alert it.

and under a chair,

when its too late,

you shall feel despair

it will be our first and final date. 

(dont be shy to leave some feedback and/or constructive criticism in the comments!!)