Eye Wall

I believe since yesterday, my people box has been out
my phone won’t stop ringing and thoughts drift
naturally to a mystic cadence  mental waves
caffeinated characters little white men
lining up intellect for inspection
last one there is a rotten egg
but the truth hurts more
than even I can say
losing oneself
is sad 
sad as if
finding stairs
that allow an escape
under shadows of an unrelenting
moon which mocks your every move
making each breath more difficult weighted
and cast as are the roles each plays to perfection
eyeing an uninterrupted emptiness too perfect in its
imperfection a field of soft pretzels floating endlessly mute
offering small minds the chance to think big for the first/last time

Alexander Milne