This #200th post is drowning in gloom and despair,
and slowly you'll find you're yanking your hair.
Better posts may come, soon in the future,
but for now ma cherie, gloom's in your picture.
Creep down the hallway, turn around slowly
Slide along the wall, it feels really grimy.
Something cold and slimy touches your neck
And soon hairs stand; all over your back
Mouth shaped like an O, get ready to scream
A hand grabs you from behind; oh typical dream
Its normal to flee, but then you stop short
"Was reality better" comes the great retort?
You float through the walls into a new world
Where everything's wonky, crispy and curled
No reflection in the mirror, no footsteps left behind
Just waltzing and twirling, until you unwind.
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