The Three-Walled House



I need your help for I'm trapped in a three-walled house

By a mad woman stuck with the mind of a little girl

Who furnishes its rooms in a grotesque clutter of all things bright and pretty.


The ceiling above burns bright with circles of lights. They blind my eyes.

I'm convinced the mad woman is an alien and the circles of lights her spaceship.

The ceiling is a harbour she comes to dock her ship at.


She trapped me in this house to carry her twisted experiments.

The hypothesis must be to see if I forget myself and go mad by the end of it.


I do not dwell here alone.

She has captured other humans who talk like puppets with predefined characters.

These people don't call me by my name. And I know I don't call them by theirs.

I haven't known them outside these three walls, yet we speak as if our friendship was forged centuries ago with blood.

Together, we remain in costumes in darkness and in light.

We speak words that don’t belong to our tongues, living lives that don’t belong to our realities.


In front of us, a man straddles a creature

Birthed from bestiality between a horse and a Cyclopes.

It keeps glaring at us, unblinkingly, with its large, black eye, and moves its head the way we move.


Strange men and women arrive at the house front

To gaze at us with their perverse eyes and lunatic smiles.

Our lives, a spectacle to them.

They laugh at our misfortunes and miseries.

Each day, their faces change.

They appear as the spaceships dock up at the ceiling, and they leave when the spaceships set sail.


And when these voyeuring strangers fail to show up on time,

Then the dead take their place and start laughing.

Their laughs come from a box containing wheels that go round and round but never get the box moving.

It must be a trick of the supernatural, I believe.


The house with three walls does not have a door, but it is open at all times.

Yet I cannot leave because one of the ghosts from the box has probably possessed me.


So will you help me?

You, on the other side of that strange, glass window.

I see you looking at me everyday.

I see you in tiny boxes of red, blue, and green.

When you're on, there's light.

When you're gone, the window shows the darkness of the mind we’re floating in.


I don't know when this experiment will end, but I cannot take this anymore.

So come break the window and pull me out of here.

And I’ll be grateful to you evermore.

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