The minute hand marches on
Dragging with it the rest of the world
And me too, though I can't always be certain
As letters fall around me like shapes
Colourful and Silent
From the place where black water drips into black pools
The thing that cannot be found remains
Unfound, I claw my way through my eyes
As people look away
I slide down deeply, barely breathing
This place is warm and dark, infectious and
I will grow like a mushroom

I see the sky is white
Bright and blinding against the trees
I wonder why I'm drowning
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