The thin, trembling instance — a crack in the delirium —

descends

cold as iron, twice as heavy.

Each object a dissonant note in this

incongruous melody of color.

It stabs my brain.

The sky _glares_ down,

flat and inane:

a blank sheet spread across the horizon.

Trees jut upwards, branches too deliberate —

each lead _screaming_ in it’s own geometry.

The shoes earlier tossed into the corner looks lifeless and

I see the dust clinging to the windowsill.

Even the shadows stand out

like they’ve forgotten how to hide.

My eyes burn so I close them.

Time lurches, slow and palpable.

Every thought a razor,

every breath tastes of iron and something else unpleasant.

I swallow and try again.

My body burns; I open my eyes.

Blurry seams weave through unseen apertures on my sweater —

which reminds me of the gossamers surrounding me and _tainting_ —

Fumbling with the seam,

I try and fail to see it.

I bring my shaking hand to my sore jaw and slowly knead it

Over

And

Over

Again.

Think of anything:

A story, the fallen chair with a broken leg, the song the stranger on the train blasted yesterday.

Or the fact that I have no one to bring me company

and comfort.

The clock moves

Tik

Tock

Tik

Tock.

How long has it been?

Too long.

My hand moves and

the world blurs back to it’s kind haze.

Will this repeat

Over

And

Over

Again?