Only. Comes. Daylight.

Half and full of 1
Only once, I notice the sound of my clock.
Only one of the work gets done.


None of 2
Twice of the laundry set to repeat.
. . .
To Repeat.


3/4's of 3
Three times to the mirror, checking for a difference from yesterday to today.
Three meals that I reject.
I know better.
Three steps to the door on the left.
Only three. I rebel against their wishes-
[Go back.]


All of 4 (I can't escape it-)
I go back.
Four are the extra steps I take.
Examining past actions to compile what I have to pick up.
Four baskets for clothes- I use them all.
It isn't enough.
None of it will be enough.
Four isn't enough-
I spent four hours cleaning.
The day is over.
I couldn't help myself.
. . .
Couldn't help it.


None of 5
Five doors I check.
The left stays closed. (I need to ignore them)
The bathroom door cracked only by five inches.
Second door closed- both locks locked. [This is incorrect.]
The laundry doors closed. Only one is open when it's being used. [Wrong again]
My door. Closed always-
[Well yesterday on friday which was the fifth of May, you left your door opened-]
[What was the year?]
[.....]
[... It's incorrect. You're off topic.]


All of 6
Six hours I spend in several worlds.
I become six people.
Each with six versions of him, I obsess.
The only chance of distance I get from-
Sixty minutes it takes to wash a sink full of dishes.
. . .
[There's a zero in it.]
(It's nothing so it doesn't count.)
[We'll just be back at square on-]
[Do not say it. You're off topic.]
Six dishes is the max I let fill up in my sink.
[Six is the amount of times you tried to kill yourself.]
. . .
[Everyone knows.]
[You're Embarrassing.]


A quarter of 7
Seven weeks I spent on a hyperfixation.
It consumes my life, but it isn't bad.
Every day I learn seven characters of kanji-
[You stopped learning seven months ago.]
(I'll get back on it in seven days.)
[You're a liar.]
(So are you.)
. . Seven is the amount of times I lied to my mother this month.
[Seven is the amount of hours you spent screaming at each other.]
[She wants to kill you.]
I ask my mother seven times if [she wants to kill me] she's ok.
. . She [does] is.


None of 8
There are eight lights I always check.
My room- One on, one off. [Stop.]
Left room- All five off. [I said stop.]
Bathroom- One off. [That's enough.]
Living room- One off. [ENOUGH]
Dining room- One off. [PLEASE]
Sunroom- One off. [JUST STOP]
Kitchen- One off, one on. [FUCKING STOP]
Outside lights- Two on, one... broke.
. .
. . .
. . . . . .
It's broken.
. . .
[Why is it broken?]
Why?
[WHY???]
[CAN WE FIX IT??]
WE cannot.
[WHO CAN??]
No one.
No one can fix it.
No one will fix it.
[WE NEED IT FIXED]
[IT HAS TO WORK]
[IT NEEDS TO]
[HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN OFF???]
88 days, 8 hours, and 18 seconds.
[DOES NOBODY CARE??]
[There's a 0|\|3 with the e!ght.]
It's only a light.
[IT'S NOT ONLY JUST A LIGHT]
[I NEED IT ON]
Why?
[I JUST NEED IT TO WORK]
Why???
[BECAUSE I FUCKING DO]
Why does it matter so much???
[J4ST F!X !TTTTTttttttttttttttttt&09*&&5*^$75#$*&^&%79'?>'<675^&$56$&OUHIFutE^d]
....  .  .-..  .--. /  --  .


Most of 9
I stay in place.
Staring at the broken light.
Screaming for the past nine minutes.
Crying for the past nine minutes.
I don't stop.
I don't stop because of its silence.
Only a scream, nothing else, is silence.
It's peaceful.
Even as my throat grow hoarse within every second,
I continue to cry.
To scream.
Because if I stop.
So will its silence.
So nine minutes become nine hours.
Nine.
Exact.
Hours.
The ribbons in my throat haven snapped a while ago,
Leave me in a silent sob.
My feet, both numb and in pain.
Yet I still remain in my spot.
Not daring to move.
The feeling of exhaustion starts to kick in.
I fight it.
I have to fight it.
Nothing else matters.
Nothing, will keep me from moving.
I will not move.
For these nine hours.
These nine hours alone.
Has been the longest silence. . . I've ever had.
The longest of its absence.
The one and only time I will have this moment.
So I'll cherish it.
And that I do.
Outside the window, I see the stars.
So beautiful.
And the moon.
So bright.
I began to feel overjoyed.
I laugh, even in complete anguish and exhaustion.
But it goes away.
The pain from my feet goes away as I'm lifted off the ground.
The world around me, dancing in pure blissfulness.
The stars and the moon grow closer.
They get so close, the light becomes blinding.
My vision develops like a backward film.
I go blind.
But even then.
I am happy.
I am grateful.
So much so that-
. .
That... voice.
That silent voice.
Not clear enough to understand.
But it's there.
It's getting closer.
That voice.
The v01ce.
It's..
\/0!(3.
It's.
[Back.]


All of 10
Ten are the thoughts I'm thinking every second.
Ten thoughts a second.
Six hundred a minute.
Thirty six thousand an hour.
Eight hundred sixty four thousand a day.
Six million forty eight thousand a week.
Twenty four million one hundred ninety two thousand a month.
two hundred ninety million three hundred four thousand a year.
Half my own, half not.
Half my thoughts of everything I don't have.
Everything I don't deserve.
Things I can't obtain.
A remainder after hour ten.
That remainder I dread to remember.
Try to reject.
It doesnt care though.
Doesn't matter how I feel.
It will remind me regardless.
And I will fall.
. . .
I fall into ten days and nights in complete defeat.
Succumbing to the nihilistic dread that hangs low behind me.
Atleast it hurts less.
It's more quiet.
Letting me curl up and rot in my own misery.
The ten days I starved.
Not getting up for anything.
For anyone.
This rebellion is different.
It can only do so much.
Scream for so long.
Worry for so little.
We'll both suffer together.
I'll make these days last a lifetime.
Ten lifetimes.
Then you'll finally understand.
And you can finally let me go-
[No.]
. . . . . . . .
Ten days pass.
The numbers begin.
The sounds of the clock.
The laundry.
The left door.
. . .The left door.
The basket of clothes.
All of it.
Coming back to me.
It isn't my choice.
It never was.
This time I beg for it to stop.
I beg for the silence I once had.
Only to be ignored.
Forced.
To do it all over again.
Do it all today.
Just to be worthless the next day.
Either way I still do what I'm told.
Still follow its orders.
Still continue the cycle.
To repeat.
All for nothing.
Nothing comes the next day.
Only the Sun and the Moon.
The cycle of them is the cycle of me.
To continue simply because I have to.
Because It has to.
So again.
And again.
I will fail victim to its torture.
And nothing will come the next day.
Only. Comes. Daylight.