Marching, The Ants go, One by One

I’ve stared at this
ceiling so long that
the random chaotic
organizes
and faces peer back
at me
or, I put them there
in the
shadows
grotesque,
mouths open
snaggle-tooth
screaming,
never beautiful
always contorted,
disfigured,
inhuman. It’s moments
like these that I prefer
to think of insanity as
the everyday crawl
through rush hour traffic
sidewalk, back pain,
foot blister
work schedule
without question, or am I
convincing myself that I
am independent of
prescription induced
reality?
forgive me,
that’s the sleep deprivation talking,
I didn’t mean to suggest
that the
other ants
in the colony, couldn’t possibly
get by
without your contribution
to the
hill.

© Emerys Watchel, 2015 All rights reserved.

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