The One Act Play I lay facing a comfort zone, Once filled with teddy bears and blankets, Suddenly consumed by a black hole. I stare into the darkness that can only be, A twister in front of my not so sturdy home, The procrastinator before a big exam who never studied, An ink stain on a clean white carpet. It seeps into my veins, And leaves me paralyzed like the dead bug on a windshield. Frozen, But not dead. Awake, But motionless. I attempt to form myself into a siren, But my mouth is filled with cotton balls. Next to me stands the demon himself, Red paint drips from where a head should be but isn't. My body melts, Wax forms in my arms. One last chance to carve a misshapen door to my sandcastle legs, And be accepted by the angry waves, Capable of seeing the faults in anything I create. I place it on, Too late, I have failed again, They smash it over me forcing me to breathe in what dust is left. I choke coughing two words, "Help me". But I'm not dead yet, They allow me one more chance. This time they will save my #life, And have me as their prisoner tomorrow night. I breathe in air, And awake from this trance. It is morning, The birds are cheering, My room stands untouched, It's as though nothing ever happened. I stand up, Blink twice, And come to realize, It was all part of a one act play.