the realm

sometimes I'm caught in this REALM
it's a realm of privacy, but restlessness
I fade away from the world of action
and into this slow, transparent feeling
the bridge between my thoughts and my actions
widens exponentially
the longer I stay.
It makes me itchy.
I itch for something to focus on
but my brain feels like a piece of tape
that's already been stuck to too many things
and falls off of everything I encounter.
I itch for somewhere to go
something new to do,
but everything that doesn't require crossing that ever-expanding bridge
has already been done,
already been explored.
I keep fading,
remembering that I used to have goals I could work on,
but where'd they go?
They're across the bridge too; I can see their silhouettes
but I can't quite make them out.
They mock me.
They dance and sparkle in the light of that lively realm; some yell at me
for standing them up,
their words contorting over the shadowy chasm between us,
turning into whispers of hypocrite
hypocrite
hypocrite
and each one snakes in through my ear
and forms a hard, black stone in my stomach
in the place where my drive, my passion should be.
Why don't I cross the bridge?
Hypocrite
Why don't you cross the bridge?