The sweat was dripping down my face
and under my skin, pulsing like veins
Time is a funny, blurry sort of thing
when your mind can’t keep up, when your feet take the reins

You’re doing what you thought couldn’t be done before
since you just wouldn’t stand to close any single door
I’ve made my point, I’m standing strong, but increasingly it seems
your eyes are closing
fleas are buzzing
and you don’t know what you’re doing anymore

There’s an odd sort of irony
in living to let your brain turn off
in working to avoid having work to do
in fighting your muscles just to keep still

And when my feet have dragged me home
they transfer their will to my hands
possessed to pull out chains of thoughts
I didn’t consent to give away
and my eyelids fan the darkness
while everyone else has gone to sleep
I hear my brain whisper my name
but the work’s not done, I must not sleep

As far as the world has revealed to you
If you slow down, you fall behind
but in sparing moments when the fog lifts
I can see with clarity the change I’ve travelled through
I find my legs are far too long, my arms are strangely strong
you hadn’t noticed before, but I hardly fit in my bed anymore
how long has it been since I’ve been me?