In the corner of my eye.
I notice the dust pile.
But I ignore it.
It's too much to move.
But it's too much to deny.
It will fester like an unattended wound.
But still,
Yes still,
I can't move.
I know it's wrong.
I know it needs my focus.
My undivided attention.
But it's all hocus pocus.
A spell cast upon me.
Why, I ask to no one,
Is this unfolding?
I can't turn my mind off.
It shouts at me to listen.
To see, what is real.
To detect what is not.
In the air that surrounds me,
It's always there.
I don't have time not to act,
I don't have time not to care.
In the corner,
There's a pile of dust.
I need to stand up...
There are no windows.
There's only me.
Ignoring what I have to trust.
I don't want it anymore.
The circling shouts aimed at me.
Although in whispers,
It's so loud to me.
I need to get up.
In the corner I must face.
I must conquer and erase,
What my existence
Can no longer take.
