The Ceiling

The beveled ceiling catches me staring
into its rigid pores
The music fills my ears and the bumps
fade away into blurry droplets
"Are you okay?" they hover above me
"I'm fine."
In, fact I have never been better.
Laying on my back, I see the world
as it truly is.
An odd perspective, I know,
but True
The towers of people stomping
The tall buildings that creep over your helpless,
small Self
The ceiling confines you in,
Capturing your breath and tears.
What do I see?
Kronk or Kosco or whatever licking my hand
and laying on my leg.
The stairs, The walls
The one who cries too much
The one who needs to cry
The ceiling
The calm, white dots.
Her head phones play songs I don't know
It makes you listen harder,
When you don't know the words
It makes you think harder,
The ceiling does
The walls, The stairs
The towering people and structures
The breath and tears locked in by the oppressive industry
and the White, Calm
Blurry Droplets