it hurts until it doesn't

the room behind closed eyelids

written: april 10, 2020 (day 276)

when i close my eyes,
i'm in a room
with a plush couch and large tv.
it's comfortable
and it's lived-in,
but it looks like hell to me.

he's there, too,
he always is
and it's only you and him.
you want to scream
but the door is locked
and he's touching your skin.

you tell him no
but words aren't heard
in this room behind closed eyelids.
you can't breathe,
you can't speak,
you can't run, but god, you wish you did.

your skin is rotted,
your heart is dark,
this is ruination.
you scrub your skin
but you can still see
the touches of devastation.

months have passed,
but i'm still there
everytime i close my eyes.
things like this
are never really over,
this memory never dies.