The Wallpaper Wches Me Sleep

I haven’t blinked in three days, afraid the shadows will move again
The mirror’s cracking on its own, or maybe it’s just laughing when I shave
I tried praying once,
but the voices inside just said “we’re not taking messages”
My toothbrush disappeared, so I licked the sink clean and called it victory
Every window shows me naked, even when I’m dressed and screaming
I think the faucet’s leaking whispers, and one of them’s planning a mutiny
The wallpaper wches me sleep—wrinkled eyes and floral lies
I hear footsteps behind me in rooms I sealed shut with salt and denial
I don’t live alone anymore, but no one else exists when the lights are off
I talk to spoons now, they’ve seen some shit and never interrupt
There’s a smile under the bed that isn’t mine—it just widens when I weep
And the ceiling’s dripping blood that tastes like fear with a sugar twist
I tried burning the sheets but they screamed like children
The door locks click midnight, even when I nail them shut
I sleep on the floor now—less dreams, more chances to fight the walls
If you visit, don’t knock—just scream and pray you get my version
The me who smiles too wide, or the one who chews on glass to think
Either way, the wallpaper’s watching… and it’s starting to learn my face
030 next—back to wild sleazy fun. Say continue
and I’ll make it nasty, loud, and hotter than hell in lex.