Chair sinks a little deeper, like it’s learning how to breathe Ceiling fan turns lazy circles, stirring up the static underneath My eyes won’t settle, won’t quite leave, caught between the dark and gleam Then the corner starts to loosen, borrowing my tired dream It sits there slow, knees folded strange, wearing my own half-closed stare Breathing out the day I wasted, mixed with something thicker in the air Pulse lags behind the silence, dragging like it’s half-asleep Everything starts softening around the edges, colors start to creep Oh the blink that swallowed me, it moves so slow and wide Shows me every almost-moment I let slip and slide I’m melting into questions, no bright light, no sudden end It's a quiet rip inside me where the real world starts to bend That blink… that blink… it swallowed me… It leans in close, I taste the rust from every door I cracked but never walked through Hallways stretch like taffy pulling, showing me the me I almost knew There’s the laugh I choked on silent when the joke cut straight and clean The hand I never offered when the other person came apart at the seam Time tastes like metal on my tongue, seconds stretch and start to bleed Every “later” I pushed away comes crawling back inside of me And it’s humming low and endless, not quite words, just the shape of all the almosts Vibrating through the ordinary light till the ordinary light gets lost Oh the blink that swallowed me, it moves so slow and wide Shows me every almost-moment I let slip and slide I’m melting into questions, no bright light, no sudden end It's a quiet rip inside me where the real world starts to bend That blink… that blink… it swallowed me… Why’d I keep rewriting the same dull lines with the same dull pen… Why’d I glue my own eyes shut when the cracks were letting daylight in… It ain’t fixing me or teaching me, just holding up the mirror crooked… Every corner I swept the mess under now feels warm and wet and open… Oh the blink that swallowed me, it moves so slow and wide Now I’m the one moving funny when I walk back into ordinary light Feet still on the same old floor but the floor feels paper-thin and alive Every shadow’s got a little extra pulse, every closed door feels like it could dive No big fix, no floating off… it's a low hum under everything I see That blink moved back inside me… and it still won’t let me be… Still won’t let me be… Still won’t let me… The blink… the blink… swallowed me…
