Formaldehyde

How does my heart beat outside my chest? 

Why do the thick membranes of my room thump so loud? 

Why does the numbness float tangible, stiff like fog around me? 

Why does frivolous banter penetrate my glass-encased mind? 

Am I drowning in the formaldehyde labs of senile gods? 

Too proud to see if I can survive without their injected luck? 

Did I get the dose or am I on placebo? 

And am I better off either way? 

Do I live another day at their mercy or have I never actually been? 

Am I helpless or do I choose to float aimless? 

Do I have a voice? And are ears of any use? 

Ears are overestimated. 

Apparently they do no shut, but that's a lie. 

They never open. 

The black holes they hide are visible through the eye and so, we shut them too. 

But light, what of light? 

How do we shut out light? 

And how do we unsee the thickening of the fog and the resounding thump thump thump of the enclosing membranes? 

We can. 

Until the glass shatters around us. 

And formaldehyde washes away the last of our sins.