focus gone never was
water thoughts wet not soak
relative is not intensity

anxious pull of magnetic fields
feel the nerves
like hands on the grey

your patterns return slowly
in the meantime: fear
creation and fear

rhyme returns
and reason dissolves
you have the list

sound holds you in
as vision, floating
tempts you with unconsciousness

it goes in
takes up residence
before you mean anything by it

cadence
language
form

better than vision ever could
it protects you
keeps you here

adherence is consciousness
sticky you wait
for calm

the nervous run
from sedation
from loss

you seek the familiar
at any cost
the organic still

old and new
you want only to stay
together

paper
your new
brain

ink
your
selfish old

the readers
they watched
you

their eyes
were always yours
to close and open


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