Padded Life

Torn up mattresses stapled to the walls deafen the sounds of the screaming. I’m talking, talking to the man with no ears, when I look, he’s not really there at all. Coming at me with outstretched arms he squeezes me to death like a half-starved boa, then I wake up, alone. In a lonely room with pillows taped to the walls and only a tiny window in the door to see a fleeting glimpse of the man in charge. Coming at me with outstretched arms he claws and bites, bleeding me out onto their clean white floor, then I wake up, alone. Padded walls and padded floors keep me from harm inside the world he has created. Tough to live with people out to get you. Friends think you’re kidding, neighbors think you’re delusional, but here I lie on the floor, slowly dying, all alone.