I sit still
-Which is unusual
In itself-
Contemplating movement,
But unconvinced of its necessity.
This paralysis.
It eats at me
For hours,
Until, at dawn,
It has me wholly.
Stuck here.
Motionless in one spot,
Able to move,
But unable to conceive
Movement.
Needing to leave
My patch of horror
And misery,
And ignite
Into the air.
But, well,
I'm losing it by now,
Wishing there was some
Metric measuring system,
A way to evaluate
Gradual Insanity.
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