Panic

Riding a bike seeing through stoned eyes,
Confusing and reflecting like sugar crystals.
Slight headache.
Every bump in the road rumbles my brain
And I seem to be getting slower.
The road depressing me slowly.
The night is falling on my shoulders
Just like a cape and, before loneliness creeps in,
I feel like a human being in a perfect place but with
An agenda that ruins and stamps on everything
I ever thought.
Fingers twist the stars until they pop out
And the chocolate cape turns to slime
Resting coldly on my back and filling my eyes
Until glassy, clear vision is replaced
With something I can't touch, but I can smell
The foreboding dripping off onto my face.