Consciousness slipping.

It’s like dipping my eyes in the ocean

as I look up to the sky;

white crystal lines

swimming on the surface of the water,

but these are more circular

colliding with one another.

If I focus enough,

I can hear them whispering,

lost between their words and mine,

completing the gap with the sound of passing cars.

Staring at them as they get closer,

luring me in some kind of trance,

as if I am in need of anything that takes away

what is left of my consciousness.

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