It Wasn't White

And these thoughts will snare and stretch you,
Until you’re so long,
That no nerve will be able to connect,
Your feet to your head
You will no longer be able to live,
Pulled thinner than angel hair,
Wrenched, so thin, that you have no end
Do not come near my bed
I’m not part of your universe
To that I’m dead
to my hurt
now inconcentrate,
attracts debris,
Which swirls round and round
Things spread from the threshold of seeing,
Towards me
But I’ve got near vision
And I can no longer see those which rule from the far side
Scraps of words, wrap, then numb me
And so I tire
Refuse to bear the weight of air, and
Exhausted, slip into the alternative reality