My eye sockets are deeper than they were before,
I’m peering out from the backs of tunnels that are so long
it’s a wonder I can see at all.
The screen and its grey words (the font colour may state black,
but it’s never as black as the type on a printed page)
have attempted to stamp themselves into my pupils
for hours every day over the past two weeks.
I’ve seen them in my sleep, within a blink
and those frequent moments staring into space.
Think the code in the Matrix films, but horizontal –
only after intense study does it form a picture.
But I think I went beyond that
and started picking up the letters and rearranging their parts
while at the same time
they were rearranging me.
And now I’m awake again
attempting to shift back to my usual self.
It’ll probably take me a week to find all the misplaced parts.
Perhaps I put them in the teapot; seems as good a place as any to start.
Treeshallow Musings 