Time is moving toward the vastness of nothingness—light vanishing at the unseen endpoint. So much, emptiness; my thoughts do not want to be alone.
Words distract our intelligence to obscure what is shown. Everything is sleight of hand. They are not wearing any clothes.
A gentle breeze becomes a bellowing wind. The air is dirty and difficult to breathe. Dust devils dancing within the calamity. I am standing still.
I am fixated on a situation from long ago. That moment has become the standard of measure. Balance of thought consumed by the trauma. The scale unfairly weighs.