I'm staring at the world
Through a fisheye lens
Everything's an echo
And nothing makes sense
I'm watching my own hands
On a tv screen
I can't remember today
Or any day this week
My brain is on vacation
I'm on autopilot until she's back
All my limbs are sleeping
And my mind's under attack
YOU ARE READING
Bandaid: A Collection Of Poems
PoetryThings I never said, but probably should have.
