Time slows down,
thoughts seem incapable of comprehension,
as I stare at a wall that is beginning to drip...
I'm lost.
What is this world I'm visting,
where color is alive, guiding me.
I came here with a purpose,
but it was stolen,
by unrecognizable shapes.
I can chase after them,
but what's the point?

Darkness, patience, fear...
I figured it out

My thoughts brought me here,
to see what I've created.
They don't like each other,
they don't like themselves,
so they think, and they fight,
in a stormy cloudlike arena called imagination.
If they can successfully destroy each other,
Then there are no more thoughts to wake up to.

KC