.

in a mind that is lost and tweaking

in its search for something it hid away

and chose to not see

to pretend that the monochrome spot

there, in the corner,

is two-dimensional, not present

or just a plant

a succulent, if you must?

a pleasant something you would consider

only a piece of the whole picture

incompletion

a mind that is lost pulls terms

like lonely threads in an emptiness of some sort

with no law, no gravity, no other term

that could put the threads together

a mind puts its hands in front of itself,

grabbing or rather trying to grab

a single end of a thread

causing the beginning of each word

to dissolve in the soft acidity of the inability to see, to understand

losing sensitivity

through the absence of

any point of pulling back

to where the sensitivity began

numbness could never be an answer

pulling a thread through the mind

would bring the light back

for gravity to remember it own rules

to restart

a lost mind

that put itself into a trap

made of tangled threads

confuses acceptance with indifference