Broken pencil poetry. A piece of madness

I've been exploring some dark artwork. I got inspired. This is a semi-poetry semi-prose piece. It's also a bit dark. I paint my dark artwork with words. And I just wrote whatever came. That is why it makes seemingly no sense and it seems broken.

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A piece of madness
01.09.2023


It's night time again and there's only a sliver of life coming in through the lowered blinds. My eyes hurt at how bright the darkness is and at how much I strain to see.
What am I looking at? What is that blackness painted over the far corner?
What is this silence, grated like cheese by the sound of the old fridge?
I blink.
It's dark under the staircase, the tendrils of darkness stretching like a spiderweb.
It's dark over the staircase, where I once stopped a... There is a dark memory looming over the staircase.
The darkness suddenly breaks like a murky mirror. Where is it? Who made that sound? Who broke the illusion?
.
.
.
I need to sleep. I need to sleep, so I can stop dreaming like this.