crowd control
your brain is your faithful bodyguard, never sleeping, never resting, erecting plywood to flank careful paths in the grass, shining headlights like crowd control, herding you like apocalyptic sheep. the dreams carry you across the fields as you sleep, and the music does that when you wake, although things make less sense here. time slips like quicksand.
you can’t seem to remember like the others do, no continuity, all you know is now, all you have is what’s in front of you, all you hear are the flutes in debussy, all you feel are the butterfly wings in the pastoral landscapes by artists long dead. time is running out. i saw the sleeve of your blue shirt draped over your chair, but my poor brain could only process so much before my body dragged it away. that’s reality for you, just a dream, just wisps of smoke, nobody knows what’s going on, nobody exists. just you.