Puzzleboom

You are how much there is wrong with the world
Turned the late hours of dusk into small hours of april the 1st
I couldn't feel it
Half asleep on the edge of my bed
Dropped my book with a nearly sleeping hand
I looked at you through the window
I saw a gouged out sheath who stared at me
Directionless white noise
If I spoke would it echo
A reverb of no choice
The colour of your eyes said you'd rather be anywhere but here
All of a sudden the floor rose up at an enormous speed
Came upon me like a mountain and the might of my body smashed
This was when I lost all my words
All those months of just feeling all wrong
With hardly a blink noticed by others
All that time the flow of letters
Continued in a foreign language I did not understand
I dropped them on the floor
Where heaps of them are still growing, changing shape
You
Make me wish for walls in an open space
It rattles my blinds how they have failed you
You fell off with your weight along the way