Paranoia
settles
in the pit
of my stomach,
effortlessly
squeezing away
every last
increment
of optimism,
rifling through
old memories
older dreams
broken fantasies,
mangling pasts
twisting presents
shattering futures,
filtering
reality
through streamers
of incoherence,
barraging with
wisps of fear
whispers of terror
whiskers of hope,
whisked about
as if an egg
in a stainless
steel world,
reality
is a paranoid
delusion,
the spiderweb
of cracks
in a broken mirror,
each one a tendril
of fate
organized
in seemingly
random patterns,
all following
each other
hopelessly
to the beginning
where you end...,
to the end
that is beginning...