I’m feeling strange and sort of petrified,
like frozen, not afraid.
Preserved in time, a fragment,
of what I could become.
Evening comes and days are through,
’til all begins again.
Getting older every day,
a current, a refrain.
There’s a slow monotony,
short-circuiting my fragile mind.
Passing time seems make-believe,
I’ve had to pause my game.
All goes on and on and on and on,
and on and on again.
I’m tired of rounding circles in,
my current, my refrain.
Accompanying artwork: “The Cracks are Beginning to Show” and “Breakdown”.
Copyright Katy Matilda Neo, 2016. All Rights Reserved.