I rather be given a map to depend upon,
to maneuver through this space.
I do not want to know all the short cuts
I do not want to learn any short cuts.
These hallways, these elevators and automatic doors.
These metallic things and white things.
I do not want to be here.
I do not want anyone to end up here.
This space is only meant to be passed though.
Not inhabited or postponed in.
these walls are not meant to call us by our names
We are meant to be unfamiliar faces.
The sounds of these machines, the more sporadic they are the safer it means.
I hate to hear a consistent beep.
It means another won't stand.
Please let go of my family.
Let us find our way out of this maze
this space is cold and lit very well
I have been told before, of a hell.
