There’s that moment when the world stops.
First your heart
then everything else slows until you’re just looking at your hands
and every sense becomes a drone in the background.
You blink and everyone has disappeared.
For a while it stays like that.
the cup on the table moves slowly,
a little to the left a little to the right.
Sometimes its filled with ice,
each day is a Dali clock,
a finger dragged through melting plastic.
Each blink is another moment
and I realize I have only so many blinks left.
They drug me so I won’t cry out at night,
but pain or sleep I would rather be awake.
I second guess everything.
Everything is accelerating