"In the Shadows of the Living Room"
In the shadows
of bowing minutes
counting finger tips
... "1,3,6" finished.
Ceiling tiles, 817
dot holes to each;
80 square feet
of carpet, there are
ten ants farming
the crumbs of each.
Tic
Tic
Tic
Clockwork spectator.
Today's game
.... is taking forever.
The room now,
tipped upside down.
Which is down? Is up?
What's the ground?
The blood's sent,
kissing my forehead.
Towards the window,
a touch of willow's
sorrows find a pillow,
on the tilwood deck.
Tic
Tic
Tic
Open every cabinet
at least three times,
I'm not even hungry
... Who'd a guessed?
Sifting the dimlit
dining room politics.
I haven't picked up
my foot for one step,
against this humdrum
day's degrading chest.
Tic
Tic
Tic
The wall has held
almost all my awe.
It doesn't burn when
my eyes begin to fall
blinklessly along the wall
for hours, now tears
stay clear as all
the rims of vision
begin to blur along
an oblong peripheral.
Tic
Tic
Tic
6 hours in this
damn house is,
starting to pronounce.
Starting to bloom
scars on thought.
I've over thought
every single gently
scribbled heart beat
to the point of palpitation.
I'm slowly dying inside.
The rain shook hands
and took the reigns,
before it began to cry.
The depression is hollow;
Lost in the plume
of sickening hypochondria,
I erode in the dueling
shadows, of the living room.
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