The sun is too bright, too pure. I cannot sleep.
The walls are too white, too serene.
My mind is immune to this place.
I am insane in my boredom.
I have given up my dignity to my guards.
They know what I am and where I am from.
I could not contain the explosion.

I lie here without consent, without reverence.
There is nothing to do but think, my thoughts will not stop.
I mark the passing of time by the checks, 15 minutes pass like blinking.
Suddenly, I have been alone.
I wish to blend in with the sheets beneath me,
A bed slept in by so many before me.
All that changes is the sheets.

I become the nothingness I once felt.
I am not bothered by heads through the door.
They pass over me like wind over water.
My conscience is ruffled, but below I am serene.
I lie here beneath photographs taped to the wall:
Family I will return to, but for now
I lie here in the whiteness.

I am a solute.
I separate from myself in the water I wished to drown in.
I disappear into the milk cartons that are served to me at breakfast.
They are too small, meant for a child.
I am yet a child, but I feel so old.
My sister says I sound younger, but here
I am time itself.

I did not want the sunlight or the letters.
I wanted only to be here, undisturbed
And untortured by the love extended to me,
The help I cannot extend myself.
They mean well, and I am full of love
But right now I cannot bear it.
I wish to lie here, unaccompanied.

The sunlight is too bright to begin with.
It should not have such power over me.
The curtains are half-shut anyway.
I only want to be calm, but the sunlight begs to differ.
It wants only to make me happy, and that
Is the reason why I was brought here.
Yet still, I am unprepared.

The sunlight watches me as I lie in my despair.
I am quiet as the hour wanes, resolute in my stillness.
All I want is to be at peace, calm in my head
But they keep poking their heads through the door. I cannot forget why I am here.
I do not feel the loneliness, only the separation.
Everything is so far away, and this will be a dream.
I see little through half-shut eyes, but the sunlight sees all, sees me.

The sunlight is loud.
This morning my room was boastful, proud
But quiet. It was calm in the darkness
And now it is noisy in its brightness.
I cannot define why the sunlight has changed it.
Maybe it is how the corners of the room seem more obvious,
But I cannot stand the serenity.

The sunlight sets fire to the room.
The walls glow with reflected warmth, radiant in its cheerfulness.
It does its best to fulfill me in my quiet as I lie
Here in the heat of sunlight, unwilling to move, or only unable.
They will call me in several minutes, and I will have to begin.
But for now the walls are white, and the sunlight shines in its pride,
And I am nothingness.