Stage Seven

Day 46

Dreams of empty pill cases,

earthquakes,

my throbbing veins,

alcohol,

holes,

and fires of grief cloud my mind.

I distract myself with tv static

and watching the cycle of clothes spin in the washing machine,

I anticipate a different result

each time I complete these activities,

but the visions are not tired of paralyzing common sense.

I see red everywhere,

different shades

and hues,

all subtracting the world from its concentrate,

like forgetting if you fed the dog at all this week.

There is a timer inside my head,

and one day it will stop.

I am scared for who will be in the same room as me.

I am proof that the mind is a terrible thing.