clocksong of h78iom21

The booing air in my room-shaped box
radiated a lavender scent,
Its sweetness wrapped the place;
I should not have been there.
I was a contemptible outsider.
The air-dense was honey.
I slowly writhed in it.
Then, I was a paralyzed mock
of myself that could not move.
Collection of scary experiences.
Hopeless and frozen, --- lonely.
Walls push to get closer to me,
Yet our shadows resisted their movement,
They wanted to be ruled by the dark
While feigning allegiance to the light.
Ignored them throughout the night
while all the neighbours were sleeping.
I was a salt crystal in my armchair,
until I dissolved in that room's air,
feared by their awakening.
I did not know how I knew what waiting meant.
It might have been just a delay in my existence.
Then and then and then
The night, the quiet, the peace
arrived, one by one, eventually.
How insomnia chewed me
and took my face into a poisoned mosquito.
Breathing and moving were locked.
The fragrance of lavender disappeared.
Replaced by the metallic scent,
Reminiscent of railway tracks
before I put my neck on them.
And you were late again,
So we were not able to escape,
Thus, our dreams diverged.
You disappeared, 
I breathed deeply once more,
Delighting in the serenity,
Liberated from fear and stress And
within a mere moment of non-existence,
beyond humanity's bounds
was joyful, tiny and unburdened.