Another episode

Its not dense heavy cuboid blocks
nor bricks piled and stacked topsyturvy
that crush and weigh me,
pinning me to the unhooverd floor

sleepless nights that curve open my lids
to the sting and blur of crazy vision
responsibilities gurgle of mirth
doesn't anchor and tug
its the confines.

Is that me laughing?
am i rocking again?
sodium and eyeliner 
rince a too dry mouth.

The confines.
they wobble and flex at my peripheral shadow
as hum and drone pierce a daze
flys do their business
all the while i dribble mutters
no colours, no reason,  just bleak
stark fear that shades and rattles.

Is that keening noise dripping from me?
to tight my arms keep each other bad company.
I pull myself together and make a cup of tea.