his brain was a muted marble stuffed with cotton
his eye sockets were filled with angry bees
paper-thin eyelids folded over a buzzing lens
weary eyes opened once again- gaze flitting from wall to wall
manic resistance to this reality, he mumbled to himself
lullabies that soothed the soul
limbs were anchors that he dragged alongside him
all of them achy
whining to him- why must we move now
static consumed every moment washing away any familiarity
a monochrome blanket infected each picture
and each picture became a wedge between the familiarities and himself
a haze hugged him tight like an old friend and he sunk into his warm blue blankets
thought of the gray metal friend in his drawer and how nice it might be
to make clouds and stars of colored glass