Time manages to drag along
yet leaps from place to place
to rhythms that are too complex,
or too bare of structure to detect.

All that I see is dulled and dim
beneath a gauzy drape,
yet pulses with a secret life
not perceived as really there at all.

Flashes appear from time to time
bright lights in the corners
where my vision meets its blind spots,
still observable behind closed eyes.

To breathe needs conscious effort
head and chest congested,
hungry for heated comfort food
yet unable to get up and cook.

In this bubble of misery
lush waking dreams unfold,
memories smile with irony
I’ve paid good money to feel this way.

Casey Mack (2011)