Carnival of Unchanging
I woke up inside a television maze,
every channel screaming my name in waves,
news anchors bleeding from the eyes,
laugh tracks syncing to my cries.
They fed me pills shaped like memories.
I swallowed childhoods, I pissed out dreams.
The doctor winked with a glitch in his smile,
said “Reality’s dead, just stay here awhile.”
I talked to my shadow. She wanted my skin,
said she’d wear it better, and I should give in.
There’s a clown in the mirror who moves when I don’t.
He whispers in rhymes like a suicide note.
The walls breathe panic, the clocks scream fuck.
I beg for silence, they turn it up.
No doors, no exits, just a game show host
with fangs for teeth and a voice like a ghost.
Welcome to the Carnival of Unchanging,
where your nightmares ride the Ferris wheel.
Sanity’s a costume, logic’s just plastic,
and your thoughts are prisoners in spinning steel.
They crowned me king of the shrieking hive
with a crown of wires and butchered time.
I laughed so loud it cracked the sky.
In the Carnival of Unchanging, I’ll never die.